The True Death
by Missus T
Summary: Collaboration with Seastarr08. We're killing of an extraneous True Blood side character each week of Season 4. They deserve it.
1. Tommy

**The True Death**

**Chapter 1: Tommy**

**Disclaimer: We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.**

**A/N:**

Hello! Welcome to a new and crazy adventure. **Seastarr08** and I spend a lot of time g-chatting about life and love…and the ridiculousness that is True Blood. One of the things we talk about frequently, especially during the actual season, is that we think the side stories are preposterous and unnecessary. So…we decided to kill off the side characters. One by one. Each week. *evil laugh* We are posting a poll on our Word Press sites each week for you to choose which character gets the boot…or ax…or bite…each week. Visit either of our sites and vote! New characters will rotate in weekly!

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Tommy Mickens loved being a shifter. He loved it so much that he had a hard time when faced with the idea of socializing with humans when he couldn't use his abilities. Many thought him ill mannered, because of his blunt and often off-putting behavior, but really, Tommy simply lacked the social skills to belong to human society.

His parents had done little to help him straddle both worlds, forcing him to trick and swindle humans from the time he was a small child. They'd never lived honest lives, the Mickens, and before Tommy was old enough to dog fight, Melinda and Joe Lee used to insist he shift into a little bird, fly into open windows, and steal whatever he could get his beak on.

Tommy never got to keep any of it. It was always sold for booze, or drugs, or to pay the rent for another week so they wouldn't end up living on the street in whatever town they were holed up in.

As most kids do, Tommy had a difficult time reconciling the idea that his parents, who he was supposed to look up to, love, and aspire to be like, were complete and utter useless assholes. Joe Lee beat the shit out of both Tommy and Melinda more often than not, and more than once, even as a small child, Tommy had plotted his death in the hopes that he and his mother could escape and make it on their own.

After all, they were both the brains and the brawn of the family. Joe Lee used them.

But as happens with children, eventually they turn into adults, and while nurture can be held responsible for many personality traits, some people are just motherfuckers.

Tommy Mickens was a motherfucker.

The worst thing about Tommy was that he had an inferiority complex that made him feel like the world owed him. It was someone else's fault that he'd been dealt such a poor hand. Someone needed to pay for that. Since no one was owning up, he took it out on everyone.

And then he'd met the one person who was possibly more of a motherfucker than him.

His brother, Sam.

And then he'd shot him.

Some people would have taken that as a sign that it might have been time for some changes. Time to go straight, to get one's life in order. Not Tommy.

Tommy used his injury to his advantage. In more ways than one.

He regretted telling Sam about Maxine Fortenberry's natural gas bonanza, but he'd thought it would have brought them together.

And Sam was the one person in Tommy's life that he desperately wanted to approve of him. Maybe it was because he was successful, able to be human when the situation demanded it. Maybe it was because he'd known a life away from Melinda and Joe Lee, or because he'd overcome his weaknesses. Or some of them at least.

Tommy never thought that much. His mind was instinctual and self-serving.

Tommy also loved being a pig. He usually opted for a boar, because it was a more badass shift, with the tusks and all.

He was a big ass boar, with a bristly grey coat and a squeal that made all the lady boars come a runnin'. Tommy thrived in the dirt, rubbing himself all through the mud and rooting all around. Bon Temps, with its swampy areas was perfect for piggin' it.

But being a boar wasn't as prestigious as some of the other things shifters shifted into, like a stallion, or a bull, or even a dog.

So he did his boar shift alone, and on the down-low.

And lately, his favourite place to run was the abandoned Stackhouse property. Partly because it was abandoned, but partly because he knew it would piss Sam off, since he carried some sort of torch for the hot waitress that had once lived there, before she'd been murdered by some vampire.

Or at least everyone thought she had been.

Tommy forgot all of that as he stripped out of the new jeans from Walmart that Maxine Fortenberry had bought him a couple of days earlier and took off into the woods.

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Eric Northman had no idea who he was, but he knew he was one lucky vampire. Sookie Stackhouse was the prettiest, best smelling girl he'd ever met.

Not that he could remember a lot of girls he'd met. But she was really special. And she liked him. He could tell. She had to, to put up with having the clumsy, somewhat simple man he'd been turned into.

From what he'd heard about his former self, he was very surprised that she was willing to take him in, even though the blonde vampire called Pam who had shown concern for him, which he'd returned by throwing her across the room, was paying her. She was going above and beyond though, spending the whole night hunting him down after he drained one of her delicious smelling kin-folk and saving him from the sun.

Even if she had brought that damn wolf with her.

And she'd almost kissed him. Eric's still heart soared at the thought a day later.

So he decided that in order to make her care for him, he needed to show her that he was a man. Not a child.

No, Eric needed to be a man, worthy of a woman's love.

So he did what he remembered doing the last time he'd tried to get a woman's attention. He went out to find her tribute.

Sookie was at work, and although he'd promised to stay inside and down in his room, Eric quietly snuck out the back door, careful to lock the house up so no one would interfere with her belongings, and ran into the night.

It made him sad, the thought that the sunlight they'd shared was most likely the last he'd see, and he found himself full of regret that they hadn't shared it together. But he'd been so inebriated that all thoughts of reason and common sense had gone out the window.

It took Eric some time to decide on a worthwhile tribute. He'd considered flowers after passing a wild rose bush, but they seemed somewhat juvenile, the type of thing he would have given a girl when he was a mere child.

When he caught the scent of the boar, just over the hill, he knew it would be the perfect thing to bring her. He would make her bracelets from the tusks and they would remember his tribute to her whenever she wore them. He even remembered how to prepare the meat, just right, over a spit. He'd build a firepit in the back yard, and he'd enjoy watching her eat it tremendously. Her soft plush lips, her teeth tearing at the tender meat.

He had the feeling he'd like watching anything Sookie Stackhouse did with her mouth. Even if it was scolding him.

He stripped off the blue sweater she'd put him in, careful to remember where it was so she wouldn't have to find him another one and found a downed branch that he broke off and carved into a spear with the small knife he'd found in her kitchen. It was rudimentary but would be effective none the less.

He listened carefully for the sounds of the boar over the ridge. The grunts of the animal mingled with the wet sounds of the mud at the edge of the bog. He used his vampire speed to move closer to the animal and stood behind a tree watching it roll in the mud, happy as a pig in shit, under the light of the moon.

Eventually, the large animal grew tired of its dirty exercising and began to lumber towards the woods to forage. Standing with vampire stillness, the boar was unaware of Eric's presence behind the very tree it moved towards, perhaps because of the natural gas emissions from the bog. The animal shuffled and sniffed at the air, oblivious to its impending death. It lifted its head, the nostrils on its disgusting nose flaring as it inhaled the damp swamp air.

With a swift motion, Eric brought his spear down, stabbing the animal through the heart. It squealed loudly and fell to the ground. Its eyes, shocked, met the vampire's before its body suddenly shifted into human form; a scrawny white ass in the air and gangly limbs stretched in all directions.

Eric was disgusted. So much for the delicious meal and beautiful tusk bracelets for his Sookie. He briefly considered making her something from the human's ribs, or saving her a finger, but he had a suspicion that would not have the desired effect on the young woman.

The human bled out onto the forest floor. Eric used his foot to roll the body over and finally got a look at the human's face. It was a young boy, less than twenty years if he had to guess. Stupid shifter, he thought. The boy shouldn't have been in the woods at night pretending to be a real animal in the first place.

Eric was indifferent to killing and this time was no different, but he knew that Sookie would not be happy that he'd accidentally killed a shifter while trying to kill a prize boar for her. Eric also knew that Sookie was a person who respected honesty and she had already proven that she would keep his secrets. He thought about burying the body in the woods where no one would find it; he could do that quickly and efficiently, but there were too many Weres and shifters in the area who might, literally, come sniffing around for the body. Though his first instinct was to dispose of the body, he was hiding on Sookie's property and he didn't even know who the human was. It saddened him, but he knew that she would know what to do with the body.

A splashing in the swamp caught his attention and Eric grinned. Crocodilia.

A few minutes later, he threw the shifter kid over one shoulder, and the hundred pound gator over the other. He'd chosen a young one, reasoning that the meat would probably be more tender.

When Sookie arrived home later that night, her feet sore and her clothes reeking of the beer that Jane Bodehouse had dumped on her ten minutes before her shift ended, she was thrilled to see that Eric, probably bored with being closed in all evening had thoroughly cleaned the house. The floor shone, the mirror in the entryway sparkled.

And something smelled amazing.

She practically skipped into the kitchen to find Eric, sparkling clean and shirtless, wearing one of her gran's old aprons and a pair of athletic shorts cooking something in a large pan on the stove.

"What is that?" She asked curiously, as she came to stand beside him.

"Crocodilia. I wasn't sure how to prepare it, since they aren't native to the North Sea, but I thought I'd try." He smiled at her sweetly. "I know you told me to stay inside..."

Sookie sighed. "Eric, you stayin' inside is for your own good. There's witches lookin' for you, and the king of the area wants your head. I mean it."

He nodded solemnly. "I know. I won't go out again."

"I was so worried about you the other morning. I thought you'd burnt to a crisp."

Eric grinned. She did care, he thought to himself. It was only a matter of time before she'd be his. "Perhaps Pam can pay you more, and you can stay home with me."

Sookie sighed again. She was probably going to have to do just that, because he couldn't be trusted to be alone. It wasn't like she was getting a lot of hours at Merlotte's anyway. Someone would take her shifts until this was all sorted out.

"We'll see."

Eric could hardly contain his excitement at the idea of having her all to himself for nights at a time. "Sit down. It's ready."

It was delicious. Whatever Eric had stocked her kitchen with, Amnesia Eric had truly used to its fully advantage. Sookie devoured every last bit of the spicy meat, while Eric watched, enthralled.

"I missed my dinner break tonight. This was very nice of you," she said, patting her stomach.

"Perhaps you could reward me," he waggled his eyebrows innocently.

Sookie knew exactly what he'd want, and she gave it to him. She inched towards him, ever so slowly, and their lips met.

And in this, she knew it was still Eric. From her dreams, in his office that night, before everything had come crashing down. He kissed with a thousand years experience and passion, moving his arm around her neck and winding his hand in her hair.

It was nice to be the center of someone's universe. Sookie had never been that before, she thought to herself, and she probably never would be again. Everyone in her life had these deep seated ulterior motives, and Eric was probably a close second to Bill when it came with keeping things from her. She winced, remembering when he'd chained her up in his basement.

But somehow, even though he kissed like him, she knew this Eric wouldn't do that, which both pleased and concerned her.

She'd been angry at Eric for the lengths he'd gone to save his own ass since she'd known him, but in the back of her mind, she knew he'd do what he had to to survive, and that he cared for her, which meant he'd do what he had to to keep her alive as well.

It was a small consolation after all the shit she'd been through, but one nonetheless.

"You're tired," he whispered, after they kissed for what seemed like forever. "We should go to your bed."

"That's your come on line?" Sookie giggled. "So I can go to sleep?"

"If you want," he said coyly, knowing from her heart-rate that that was certainly not what she wanted.

"You're still an arrogant bastard." She grinned at him for a minute. "Maybe let's go to the couch."

He threw all the dishes in the sink and scooped her up before she had the chance to stand. The couch was a far better location, and Sookie had just reached for the tie on his apron when he pulled away.

"What?" she said, confused and a little frustrated. She'd certainly not anticipated him having that reaction since he'd been trying to sleep with her for months.

"I have to tell you something," he mumbled. "You'll be mad later if I don't."

Sookie looked at him curiously. "What is it, Eric?"

"I killed someone," he said, his voice low. "But it was a mistake. I thought he was a boar."

Sookie's eyes went wide, and her first thought was that he'd killed Sam. He'd left the bar far earlier than her, making some weird excuse about going to a meeting. For what, she hadn't asked, distracted by thoughts of her houseguest.

"Where is he? The person you killed."

"He was a boar when I killed him. I thought you would be pleased. I was going to make it a gift for you, but I had to settle for the crocodilia."

He was very old fashioned, Sookie thought, a little impressed that he'd planned to kill a boar for her and even more impressed that he'd killed a gator.

But then she remembered that he killed a person.

"Take me to the body, Eric."

He nodded, a bit dejected and Sookie followed him outside. They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a small clearing.

Sookie let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Tommy and not Sam. It wasn't good that he'd killed Tommy, but it would have been worse if it had been Sam. People liked Sam. Sometimes. No one liked Tommy, aside from Maxine Fortenberry, who didn't really like Tommy. She was just using him as a Hoyt replacement.

"You killed my boss's brother," she said quietly, looking up at Eric.

"Sorry," he whispered. "It was an accident."

She patted his hand. "It's okay. He was kind of a shit anyway, but you should really stop killin'. We have to get rid of the body."

"I left some crocodilias in the swamp back there." He nodded towards the woods.

Sookie shrugged. "Swamp it is."

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

A/N:

So...thanks for reading. We're having fun with this! Be sure to check our Word Press pages (links at the top) and vote! Who do you want us to kill next week?


	2. Crystal

**The True Death**  
><strong>Chapter 2: Crystal<br>Disclaimer: ****We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.**

**A/N:****  
>Thanks so much for reading! Sounds like there are a lot of you on the same page with us. Your reviews were great – especially the Beeeel hate. Don't forget to stop back over at one of our WP sites to vote for next week! <strong>

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Crystal Norris was the prettiest girl in all of Hot Shot. She always had been, long as she could remember. Her momma had been pretty too, with a pair of sparking blue eyes and a figure that everyone in town wanted writhing beneath them.

Crystal had a figure like that too.

She'd had dreams once, when she was a little girl. Dreams about runnin' off and joining the circus. She'd jump through hoops and her trainer, a man that looked a lot like Kevin Bacon from Footloose, would love her. He'd know her secrets, and he'd love her all the more because she was special. She'd go to high school and they'd get married, leaving Hot Shot behind forever.

The first time Crystal got pregnant, she was thirteen.

Everyone had been so proud and happy about it. Her daddy had bought her a new dress to wear and she'd gotten extra food so the baby would grow big and strong.

The baby was perfect, with a mess of blond hair and ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

But he was dead. Still born.

Crystal went cold after that. No one told her it wasn't her fault, that she was young, and that her uncle, who'd fathered the child, had a history of still-born babies, probably because his own parents had been half-brother and sister to one another.

They just left her to sort out her own grief.

She'd never cared much for Felton growing up. He was a mean boy who loved pulling her hair and he'd once put a toad in her bed. She'd never forgiven him for that. But soon it became obvious that she was going to have to be someone's girl, or she was going to be everyone's girl. So she'd given herself to him. It wasn't so bad. They were close in age, and he had his sweet bits, when he'd pick her flowers or grab her a Coke in town, or a catch her rabbit when they'd shift.

But she always longed for something more, even though she knew it was her duty to continue their line. She wondered sometimes, if in some other part of the world, if there were others like them, a little group just looking for some new blood too.

She'd known Jason Stackhouse was a special man from the moment she laid eyes on him. He was handsome as the day was long and sweet as sugar. And he was a simple man. Crystal figured there was lots of room in his head for Ghost Daddy. She'd resisted his charms for a while, knowing that her daddy wouldn't understand. He thought that they'd be fine, that there were more than enough of them to keep the line going, and that if they were going to breed with anyone, it should have at least been shifters or, as a last resort, Weres.

But Crystal knew that wasn't how it was meant to be. Just like Ghost Daddy had made them, they needed someone to do it again. They needed to make someone who could save them.

Jason was just the type of person to do it. She sat, purring and rubbing her belly, day-dreaming about babies she'd never have. She believed she was pregnant and was even starting to feel her body change, but it was all in her head.

Sam Merlotte sat on the couch in his small, hot trailer behind the bar he owned. He flipped channels on the television, snorting when he came across _Game of Thrones_. He loved the books, and they'd done a great job translating them to the small screen, but they had been off on one little detail. Well, it was a rather large detail actually. In reality, Dire Wolves had been fucking monsters of beasts the size of a pony. On the television show, they were no larger than an average wolf. He was a shifter. He knew animals, and he didn't like it when Hollywood didn't get their animal facts right.

The phone rang, and he clicked off the television before answering.

"Are you ready?" He smiled at the Luna's sultry voice on the other end of the phone.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he joked. "I'll meet you at the logging road."

He liked Luna, he really did. She came with baggage, but hell, he had a shit ton of his own, so that didn't matter. She had a kid and a Were for an ex who kept an eye on her, but that didn't scare the shifter. If the only thing the guy could change into was a wolf, Sam would just change into a bear and kick his ass. Fucking Weres, thought they were so great. Cocky one-trick ponies if you asked him.

She was Native American, and her family had some strange traditions, well, strange to a guy who'd raised himself and had no sense of family or history. He'd learned all he could about shifter culture on his own; there hadn't been anyone to hand down generations of stories to him. When he'd finally found his mother he'd been sorely disappointed. He didn't want to find out anymore about her than he had to. Trashy bitch.

Luna was meeting some relatives for a bonfire - or some kind of get together that he didn't really understand - but she'd invited him along. He wasn't sure if she'd asked him to come because she felt sorry for him or she was worried about her ex coming around. Hell, maybe she really liked him. All he knew was that they were going to smoke a peace pipe around a fire and end up naked before they shifted and got out some of their animal energy.

He grabbed his keys, heading out to meet her without stopping to check in at the bar. He was tired of the work he put in there and never having anything to show for it. Not to mention, his fucking brother had come in and stirred shit up and he'd ended up with a hot vampire as a waitress somehow. It just wasn't the same anymore.

Parking behind a small line of cars on the old logging road near Hot Shot, he got out looked around for Luna. Some twigs cracked, and he watched two small foxes come out of the brush, shifting into humans in mid-step. Luna and an older man with long hair and a heavy gut stood before him, naked.

"Sam, meet my Uncle Edgar."

"Nice to meet you." Sam held out his hand and the man reluctantly shook it but didn't say a word.

Luna rolled her eyes at her uncle and smiled at Sam. "You're over dressed. Get naked and we'll head to the campfire."

"Do you always sit around the fire naked?" he asked, confused. He'd expected the naked part of the evening to come later.

She laughed. "Sam, we're Native American and shifters. We don't spend a lot of time in clothes. The idea is that if the spirit moves you - you should shift. Clothes just get in the way."

"I see," Sam said, nodding his head even though he didn't understand.

He'd never been spoken to by a spirit, but hell if he was going to tell her to get dressed. Quickly, he got undressed and stashed his clothes in his truck before following them into the woods. They walked until they reached a small clearing with a fire burning off to one side. A group of six or eight people sat on logs around the flames; Sam could tell from the way the ground was worn the firepit was used fairly often. They stepped into the light and Luna made introductions before they took their seats.

The oldest looking man began to tell a story about their ancestors who had taken in a sick woman. She had turned out to be a pure Were panther. It took months, but their medicine man nursed her back to health. During her confinement in their village, she had fallen in love with the chief's son. She was seen as a gift from the spirits to their tribe. The couple was to be married, but on their wedding night, the village was attacked and overrun with Were panthers.

Sam listened intently, angry at the Were's for brutalizing the village, attacking at night and during a celebration when the tribe's guard was down. The smoke from the fire shifted and he felt a shiver down his spine. There was powerful stuff at work.

Edgar passed Sam what looked like a joint. "Breathe in the offering the earth has given us," he said, eyeing Sam intently.

Never one to go against the crowd when it came to mind altering substances, Sam accepted.

And things got a little crazy after that.

All of a sudden, there was a dark figure in front of him.

"What the fuck are you?" Sam whispered, reaching out to touch it. Everyone around him had shifted and was doing their various animal things. Edgar was licking himself in the form of a monkey, and Luna was a beautiful swan preening her feathers.

The figure spoke in a soft, but powerful voice. "I am the creator of your kind. I am," he paused for dramatic effect, "Ghost Daddy."

Sam narrowed his eyes and peered into the mass. "What the fuck?"

"Sam Merlotte, it's time you and I met."

Sam gasped, as the form merged with his. He felt stronger, more alert.

"Shift," the voice, which was now inside him, whispered.

Sam closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was something he'd never been before. A mother-fucking Dire Wolf. The last animal he'd seen that impressed him.

"Now, we're going to take a little trip, Sam Merlotte. You're going to help me out with something."

Sam, not in his right mind and feeling mighty good as a pony-sized wolf, let out a deafening howl as he ran into the dark swampy forest.

"Where we going? And who are you? What's a Ghost Daddy?" Sam asked the new voice in his head.

"I am known by many names and exist in many forms. I am your father, and your father's father, and his before him. I am the first shifter."

Sam felt moved by the spirit. So moved that he let out a motherfucking Dire Wolf howl, which was frighteningly loud, like the roar of a dinosaur in his head. The spirit of Ghost Daddy was telling him to move and Sam didn't feel the slightest urge to fight it. He started to run as fast as his four legs would carry him, not slowing down until he reached the edge of Hot Shot.

Ghost Daddy drew in a deep breath, smelling the air as if he was looking for something and Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"What the fuck are we doing here? These shifters are in-bred wild-cats."

"No shit," Ghost Daddy mumbled. "This, Sam Merlotte, is a big fucking problem. A mess that's gotten out of hand that needs to be taken care of."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, just as Ghost Daddy got a whiff of something that he thought smelled like a large cat in heat.

He lurched forward, running again, this time Sam knew where he was headed. No matter what he did, Sam couldn't turn Ghost Daddy away from the wretched smell of slutty panther. He ran through the middle of the ramshackle village that was Hot Shot. The entire area smelled of panther, but he felt himself veer immediately to tiny house where the scent of the female was strongest. He loped through the open front door, startling the Were in her human form as she sat on the couch, gently rubbing her belly.

She jumped to her feet, her eyes wide. "What the fuck?"

Sam growled, as he felt himself shift into human form, but it wasn't his form. Suddenly, he was a dwarf the size of Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones. He had to stop watching so much television; that shit was seriously rotting his brain.

"Ms. Norris, I presume," Sam said, in a proper accent of some sort. "I have a bone to pick with you."

"Who the fuck are you?" she sneered, obviously underwhelmed by his form.

"I am Ghost Daddy."

Sam wondered what the fuck he'd smoked. He'd never been able to shift into a person before.

"Ghost Daddy?" She snorted. "You ain't Ghost Daddy. Ghost Daddy is a bad ass panther."

"I am Ghost Daddy, and I know what you did."

"What? That I brought new blood into our lines?" She had her hand over her belly again as if she was heavy with child.

"There's nothing in there," Sam heard himself say. "You might have forced that redneck to fuck you, but his seed didn't plant." He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. This Ghost Daddy was a cold fucker. "Time to change your ways."

"I don't believe you," Crystal spat out. "You left us when we needed you most. Now that I've seen you, I don't believe any of the stories I heard about you."

Sam then felt himself shift again. This time, into Kevin Bacon. Crystal was still unimpressed.

She eyed him up and down and yawned. "So what, you're a skinwalker. Big fuckin' deal."

"Shift, my misguided child," Ghost Daddy spoke, through Sam. "It's on, bitch."

Crystal growled and transformed, and once again, Sam felt himself do the same thing. He hated being a pussy of any sort, but a Ghost Daddy Panther was kind of badass, he had to admit. He stood a full head over the smaller female cat, who was now purring and licking her haunches.

"I tried to reason with her, Sam Merlotte. Time to take out the trash."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked the voice in his head.

"Bitch has fucked with creation. You can't just make a Were panther. It's unnatural. She's made us vulnerable. Do you want our kind to end up like the fucking vamps? Every dumbass kid looking for a sports scholarship pays some idiot to bite him? I can't have it."

"What you gonna do to her?" Sam asked, as he nuzzled her. She was in heat, he knew from the smell. He didn't like being a pussy, but he wouldn't mind getting some.

"There'll be none of that," Ghost Daddy said, cockblocking him. "I'm going to fight her to the death. Her and I, out front in front of all of them, so they know this won't stand. If any of her kind cut in, I'll kill them too."

"I don't want you messin' up my skin, Ghost Daddy," Sam whined. This shit could get ugly.

"I'll protect your skin. Don't you worry about that."

He cornered her and let out a roar loud enough for the entire shitty village to hear. She shot out into the dirt yard as other panthers began to come out of their homes, creating a circle around her. Ghost Daddy walked into the middle of the crowd, roaring again and slashing his paw in the air. Sam didn't speak panther, but he figured the spirit was telling them shit was on.

The first one, an older male jumped on him, but Sam easily swatted him away, tearing off part of his ear in the process. He backed off, as Sam went for Crystal.

They circled one another for a few minutes, tails swishing, ears alert. Eventually, she stumbled and he attacked, swiping at her with his claws and snapping his jaws at her jugular. She hissed at him as he pounced on her and repeatedly beat her head against the ground, before gnashing at her with his teeth.

A few of the other were panthers looked like they were thinking about jumping in, but most were too young or old to offer any serious resistance, as Ghost Daddy Sam ripped Crystal to shreds. They rolled and fought, kicking up dust and splattering blood on the crowd of onlookers.

When it was over, Ghost Daddy Sam stood above the naked body of the thin woman, panting. He was still in panther form as he turned to survey the crowd. They sat on their haunches, heads lowered in respect. He roared at them a few times and Sam figured he was warning them not to fuck with creation again, then he sauntered off into the night.

When Sam woke the next morning in his trailer, he was completely didn't remember getting back to his truck or driving home, yet his old pick-up was parked outside. His cell phone sat on the table, blinking with an alert for voice mail.

There was only one message; it was from Luna. "Sam, what the fuck happened last night?"

He set the phone back on the table and put his head in his hands. He wondered the same thing. What the fuck had happened?

It was later that day when he ran into Andy Bellfleur at the bar. Andy looked stressed and tired, like he'd aged ten years.

"What's up, buddy?" Sam asked. "Rough night?"

"Some fucking cat mauled one of those inbred Hot Shot hillbillies to death. I spent most of the night at the crime scene. A fucking mess."

Sam tried to stay calm, but knew he had to at least ask a question or two. "Really? What the fuck? Those people keep to themselves most of the time. You think it was one of them?"

"Hell, yeah. It's always someone you know. It was probably one of her brother-cousins, but nobody out there's talking."

"Damn. Well, good luck with that. You know what," Sam said, relieved. He smiled as he handed over his beer. "Lunch is on the house."

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

**A/N: **

Thanks again for checking out this craziness. We'd love to hear what you think. See you next week!


	3. Tara

**The True Death**

**Chapter 3: Tara Thornton**

**A/N:**

We're loving the response to this story! So glad that we can off the characters so many people are sick of. We might have gotten a little goofy with this one (as if the rest aren't) – but it felt good. Enjoy.

Don't forget to vote this week!

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xx-xx-xx-

"My life is so fucking hard," Tara sighed, thinking about the changes in Bon Temps since she'd left. Sookie's house was newly remodeled. It had been just over a year since she'd destroyed it herself. She couldn't be responsible for that though. After all, she'd been possessed by a Maenad. Nor could she be held responsible for any of the other trainwrecks that seemed to follow her around. "I can't believe that Sookie would even talk to that vampire, after all he did to everyone else. Never mind the fact that he saved her ass. What about what he did to Lafayette?"

She decided to drown her sorrows in some booze at Merlotte's. When she arrived there, she was stopped by a familiar face as she stepped out of her car.

Her too-hot cage fighting girlfriend, Naomi, from New Orleans. Tara looked her up and down, glad to have a bit of what she felt was her real life there to ground her. Being in Bon Temps always made her feel all kinds of fucked up.

"Wanna wrestle?" Naomi purred, completely over the fact that Tara had lied to her for no reason in a matter of hours.

"Hell yeah," Tara growled back, tackling in her in the parking lot. She pulled Naomi forcefully into her arms and kissed her, hard, letting her know how much she'd missed her. They ended up pushed up against a dumpster making out, feeling each other up and rubbing against each other.

"Baby, I think those hillbillies are looking for a show," Naomi whispered, looking over Tara's muscled shoulder.

"What the fuck you lookin' at?" Tara shouted at Bud Dearborn.

"This is a family restaurant Ms. Thornton," Bud said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Why don't you take that somewhere else?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up, you racist cracker," Tara said, certain that the former sheriff was out to get her, not because she was being lewd in public, but because of the colour of her skin.

"There are things that I'd like to do to you, Tony - or Tara - whoever you are, but I don't want an audience," Naomi whispered. "Let's go inside and you can buy me a drink."

"How about six? You're gonna need them," Tara snorted. "This town is fuckin' fucked up."

They made their way into the door and sat down in a booth. Jessica Hamby brought them over a menu, but she got a weird look on her face and ran out the door without another word.

"What was that?" Naomi asked.

"A new vampire," Tara said flatly.

"A what?"

"You heard me."

"Holy shit. You have a vampire waitress? Isn't pretty far out in the sticks for that?" Naomi was truly surprised. Most vampires lived closer to major cities where there were businesses that catered to their need for things that were open over night.

"I told you, this place is fucked up. Sookie's neighbor is a vampire. She let him take her virginity."

"Shit, no?"

"Yeah."

"What's a Sookie, though?"

"She _was_ my best friend," Tara said sadly. "Things are...different now. A lot of shit happened to me. To this town. That changed everything. I can't be her friend if she's going to keep associating with those fucking blood suckers."

"We'll I don't blame you for wanting to get away from all this," Naomi said with a giggle. "I can't wait to get you back to New Orleans and out of this swamp, Tony."

"It's Tara."

She shook her head, and ran her finger up Tara's arm. "I like Tony better."

"Lesbians!" Some awful stereotypical Southerner screamed, most likely Tommy in a Sam suit in ghost form.

"Can't even get a drink," Tara sighed. "See what I mean?"

"Well, that doesn't explain why you lied about your name, or the state you were from, but I like your ass, so I won't worry about that too much," Naomi whispered in her ear.

Tara was met by an overwhelming urge to bite, fuck, and rub herself all over Naomi.

"I know where the store room is. You wanna go check it out?"

"Yeah, baby. Why not?" Naomi said, rubbing Tara's ass in the booth.

Unconcerned with the hygienic ramifications of fucking in a room where food was stored, because she didn't give a fuck about anyone or anything, but herself, Tara led her girlfriend with the six pack abs to the room where they stored the six packs and pickles.

A few yards away, another Tara, the true Tara, waited, watching, hiding with the meat in the freezer. She'd been waiting for this day for four seasons, which was like six weeks in Bon Temps time. She'd managed to escape from the evil man who'd held her hostage by lulling him to sleep with talk of his favorite subject, Bill Compton and his furry chest. Clearly the man had terrible taste. Tara had seen what he was forcing Sookie and Eric to dress in, and what he'd done to Pam, and she was appalled.

She watched through the window in the walk-in cooler until she saw crazy Tara and a woman make their way to the store room, groping each other and flirting. She didn't hold back the growl that bubbled up from deep inside. _He'd_ made her a lesbian. A black, man hating, vampire killing lesbian. It couldn't have been farther from the truth.

She had wanted to kill him, but she knew better than to bite the hand that feeds. He'd told her about the fat pay checks crazy Tara had been earning for her, so she let him live. Though she had kicked him in the head a couple of times on her way out of the production trailer he'd kept her in. No, killing this other Tara would be even better. Bitch had ruined her good reputation as a good Southern woman. If this reality was allowed to continue, she'd never marry sweet, but simple, JB, and she couldn't let that happen. He needed someone to take care of him.

She'd managed to steal a pair of nunchuks from the prop closet of the Karate Kid, the new remake, not the awesome original. She still didn't understand why they'd remade such a classic. Even though she wasn't exactly sure how to use the nunchuks, she figured she could learn. Or that she'd somehow instinctively know, since the other her was a bad ass cage fighter.

Or, she figured, she could just use the element of surprise to her advantage. As Tara and Naomi mastered the scissor position on the turnips, Good Tara ran out of the freezer, and with a mighty Rebel yell, she leaped at the two of them. With a great deal of adrenaline and Starbucks caffeine from Craft Services, she started swinging with everything she had.

Despite being a bad ass cage fighter, Naomi screamed like a baby and ran away, knocking over a giant tub of ketchup as she scrambled through the door. She was really and truly shocked and appalled at the small town that her beloved Tony had come from, but, like two apples from the same barrel, she was also a self-involved twat, only concerned with herself.

Tony was better off here, she told herself, as she stole her car and drove off like a bat out of hell into the night. These crazy fuckers were her kin, after all.

Fake Tara was too stunned to move. She laid, sprawled out, with her pants down on top of the turnips, looking at the far more logical, intelligent, non-scene hogging version of herself.

"Tara-Tony," the real Tara said. "You're a poor excuse for a human, let alone me. I've come to put an end to your flat acting and ridiculous perpetuation of stereotypes."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not you. I can't be you. We're nothing alike," Tara said, shaking her head bitchily.

"My point exactly."

Fake Tara huffed and stood up, pulling her hot pants up and straightening her shirt. "Bitch, you don't know me. I've been kicking major ass in the fighting circuit down in New Orleans. I'll kick your ass."

"Really?" True Tara chuckled. She knew it was all acting. "I grew up here fighting with Jason Stackhouse and sticking up for Lafayette and Sookie. They might have told you what my life was like, but I lived it. I think I can take you." She dropped into the fighting stance she'd learned years ago to protect her friends and motioned at the actress to bring it.

Pow! Good Tara cracked Stereotype Tara in the jaw!

Wam! She kicked her in the head!

Bam! Right in the ass!

Kapow! Nunchucks to the throat!

Bam thwapp pow zlonk pow sock!*

Dust bunnies flew and cans of chili and nacho cheese bounced on the floor. And that was the end of Tara "Bitch, Please," Thornton.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and a bewildered blonde stood there, jaw agape.

"What the fuck?" Sookie stepped over Tara: Version Suck, staring in confusion at Tara Thornton-Du Rone. She recognized the woman with the nunchuks, but couldn't place her. Tilting her head and studying her for a moment, Sookie grinned as tears came to her eyes.

"Tara, is that," she rubbed them. "I can't believe it's really you."

Tara wrapped her arms around Sookie and stroked her hair. "It's me, Sookie. I'm so sorry. This awful man, Alan was holding me hostage, and I couldn't get to you. I tried so hard, but he just kept telling me, this is what the public wants."

"You're the best friend I ever had. Why would he think that? I can't believe I let that other Tara into my life. It was just like, one day you were gone, and she was there sayin' she was you, and all the voices in my head were so confusing, so I just let it slide. But she wasn't half the Tara you are. She didn't even own a clothing store that gave me discounts. She just trashed my house and cussed at me." Sookie looked down. "Have you seen what I've been wearing? I've been forced to have sex with all these vampires in the dirt because I didn't have any sexy lingerie for them to tear that I wanted seen on camera. You should have seen what he made me wear to Club Dead."

"I know," Tara Thornton-Du Rone sobbed. "He made me watch every second of it."

Sookie held her true, non-scene-hogging friend out at arms length and looked at her. It was so good to see her again. "So you're back for good?"

She glanced around. "I don't know what will happen if he finds me. He didn't think I was melodramatic enough to be a part of your life"

"S'okay," Sookie whispered, her eyes darting around the store room at Merlotte's. "I'll protect you. I've got a plan for _him_."

Amnesia Eric poked his head into the store room and locked it behind him. "Is _he_ here?"

"No, baby. I don't think so," Sookie whispered, rubbing her viking's arm. "You can be yourself for a minute."

Eric took an unnecessary sigh and sat down in Sam's task chair. "Lover, if I have to be nice to Bill for one more minute..."

"I know," Sookie sighed, exchanging a look with the gorgeous man she'd been denied passionate sex with just the night before. "It's just all so fucked up. Just remember, we've got a plan."

-xx-xx-xx-

**A/N:**

OMG that felt so good! We originally planned to kill her with a SRI (sex related injury) which also would have been awesome, but we decided that book Tara deserved the honor of taking back her life.

Thanks again for reading. See you next week - we hope we haven't scared you off!

*Words taken from Adam West's _Batman_. No copyright infringement intended.

http:/www(dot)usfamily(dot)net/web/wpattinson/otr/batman/batfight(dot)htm


	4. Debbie

**The True Death**

**Chapter 4: Debbie**

**Disclaimer: We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.**

**A/N:**

**Thanks so much for checking out our cathartic little fic. You have no idea how good it feels each week to off these people! Well…based on your reviews, maybe you do. Anyway, thanks for coming on the ride with us. **

**Don't forget to stop back over at one of our WP sites to vote for next week!**

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Debbie Pelt didn't like Sookie Stackhouse. Hadn't from the minute she laid eyes on her. She knew Sookie was after her fiance. Yeah, they'd watched her through the bushes when she was fucking that vamp in the dirt by the lake, but that's all it was. Fucking. There was no future with a a vampire. Not even Sookie could be dumb enough to think things between her and that sherrif could work. He was a bad ass mother fucker. He wasn't settling with a human, let alone her. Human men like him didn't settle down; she couldn't imagine a vampire even considering it. Which all led her back to the conclusion that the cutesy blonde bimbo and her telepathic bull shit wanted her wolf. And that's what Alcide was. Hers.

She pulled a batch of cookies out of the oven and sighed. She was getting tired of the happy homemaker act she'd been putting on to convince Alcide that she'd changed. Part of her recovery process was to make amends to the people she'd wronged, and God knew she'd wronged him. She knew it was cold when she left him and their boring life to take up with Coot and the Jacksonville pack, but she needed to live. To feel. To breathe. And damn. Did she ever. But now here she was, with a wolf that was love with that little fairy bitch who was fucking the vampire. What kind of fucked up life was she living?

She was glad she'd run into the Shreveport Packmaster at the gas station. He'd looked over, sniffing the air, narrowing his eyes at her. She knew that Alcide should have checked in with him already and she wanted, no she needed, to run with a pack again. Smiling, she thought about the run they'd taken with the new pack a few nights before, ending with a good hard fuck before they'd stumbled upon Sookie and the vampire, but after that, when they got home, she just couldn't get into sex with Alcide. What if he left her? Who would want her? Fuck. Sookie was a problem. That bitch had to go.

It was late afternoon, but Alcide was working, building some new strip mall or something. She was alone in the house that his daddy had paid for in order to keep his son close. As she made dinner, following a casserole recipe out of Southern Living, she thought about the damn telepath and what she did all day. Bitch probably sat around knitting or weaving damn baskets. She put the cookies away while dinner cooked. She sat at the table and flipped though the rest of the magazine before she began to tap her fingers on the table impatiently. With a sigh, she went to change into some ripped jeans and a tank top. She couldn't handle the polka dot dress anymore. She wrote Alcide a note telling him she'd gone to a VA meeting. Grabbing a pie out of the refrigerator and her keys from the hook by the door, she jumped in the car and backed out of the driveway. Alcide would work until dusk at least, taking advantage of the daylight and the good weather. She had plenty of time to drove over to Bon Temps to tell the Sookie fucking Stackhouse to stay away from her wolf.

Sookie Stackhouse was exhausted from spending the day keeping Eric safe from the sun. Physically, she was tired, but mentally, she couldn't even think. Eric was finally resting, though fitfully, and she felt as if she could leave him alone for a while. The spell had been strong, but Eric had managed to fight the pull to go outside and she didn't think there would be a second attack. She washed dishes and soaked some laundry. She was getting good at removing blood stains from clothes.

Sam called, asking her if she could come in because Holly wasn't feeling well. She'd been a little shocked, since he'd fired her the day before, but he didn't seem to remember the conversation at all. She'd hesitated to tell him no, but she didn't feel right leaving Eric home alone. Not after the day they'd had. She sighed. _Home._ For the first time since Gran had died, it truly felt like home with Eric there. She knew how ridiculous that was, the house had been through so many changes since then, but being there with Eric just felt right. She liked taking care of him, feeling like someone cared about her and needed her. It was different than the way Jason needed her. Eric may have had amnesia, but he still had more self-preservation skills in his pinky finger than Jason ever had.

She sat on the porch steps drinking sweet tea, feeling the sun on her face that threatened Eric's life earlier in the day. Two years ago she never would have imagined feeling this way for a vampire. Sure, she'd wanted to meet one, but everything else? It seemed like it was part of a TV show, not her life. But it was true. She'd given her heart to a vampire who'd lied and cheated and broken her. Eric had been a cocky bastard and he'd tricked her into taking his blood, but he'd never done anything to actually hurt her, that he didn't have a reason for afterwards. She'd been miffed when he locked her in the basement, sure, but when she thought about it now, the underlying reason behind his lies was to protect her. She still wasn't sure what Bill's excuse was. _Bastard. _

Shaking her head, she put away thoughts about Bill. She had another vampire to think about. A kinder, sweeter vampire whom she knew her time was limited with. She didn't know what was going to happen when he got his memory back. She was trying very hard not to think about it, but it felt like a pit in her stomach, the thought of losing him.

She stood and stretched before going downstairs to check on Eric. He was sleeping, though she didn't know how, draped in silver across his ankles, wrists and chest. Knowing that there was less than an hour until sunset, she gently lifted the heavy chains off his skin. He hissed and shifted, yet calmed when she whispered words of reassurance. She sat and watched him for a few minutes, the way she imagined he watched her sleep. Glancing up, she saw a car she didn't recognize coming down the driveway. She sighed in frustration, wondering who the hell it could be and went upstairs. She closed the armoire that housed Eric's secret hiding place and went to greet whoever it was on the porch.

She put on her sweetest face when she saw that it was Debbie Pelt, although she had the desire to grab her grandpa's old rifle and just end this civil farce. Debbie didn't like her, and she didn't like Debbie. She understood that Debbie probably thought she wanted Alcide, but she didn't. Not really. Maybe a little, but not in a way that she was going to act on. She thought he was hot and all sure, but he was kind of whiny, and was just a little too smooth for her liking. She was jealous of the closeness that she assumed that Debbie and Alcide shared, since they weren't limited by the daylight. She wondered briefly as Debbie walked to the door, pie in hand what it was like for Were couples. Did they have sex in animal form? What would happen if the female got pregnant? She made a mental note to ask Sam some night when Merlotte's was slow, now that she'd been un-fired.

"Debbie, it's so nice to see you," Sookie said, sweet as sugar. "Won't you come in?"

"Why Sookie, I'd just love to," Debbie replied, batting her eyelashes. "I brought you a pie. Cherry."

"Oh, my favourite. Thanks so much." She ushered her in, taking the pie, even though there was no way in hell she was going to eat it, because no matter how sweet Debbie was, that pie was not a risk she was willing to take. A quick glimpse into her mind didn't tell her anything, but she knew come hell or high water that Debbie had at least spit in it, and at worst, filled it with strychnine poison. "Would you like some sweet tea?"

Debbie grinned artificially, probably having the same debate in her head. "Oh, I think I'm fine. I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing after we saw you the other night. How's your brother?"

"Oh, he's just fine. He got all worked up for nothin', although those crazy Hot Shot fuckers really did a number on him with the biting."

Debbie shook her head. "Some Weres. Those Hot Shot assholes give us a bad name."

"Oh, I'm sure they do," Sookie said, as the fake grin on her face started to become uncomfortable. "All the Weres I've met have been perfectly lovely."

_Fuck you, bitch, I know you're thinking about Alcide_, Debbie thought to herself, as she continued to smile sweetly. "We can run a little hot sometimes, but we generally mean well." She glanced around the house. "Your place looks better than the last time I was here."

_When I shot you,_ Sookie thought to herself. "Well, a dear friend of mine did me a kindness and fixed it up when I was away, working for Bill."

"That vamp we saw you fucking in the woods?" Debbie said, but meant to think.

Sookie narrowed her eyes. "You were watching us fuck in the woods?"

Debbie moved into bitch mode. She figured she might as well own it, since she'd made the mistake of acknowledging she'd seen them, and watched for a little too long for her liking. "Kind of hard to miss, you and that big fucking vamp going at it like rabbits. Not much of a future in vampires though."

"I...you know what Debbie, fuck you," Sookie said sharply. She'd had a long day, and she didn't need to have her limited future brought to her attention by the likes of that junkie bitch. "You know what? Maybe I have one hell of a future with him. He's going to live forever. Unlike you."

And with that, Sookie took out all the aggression and terror and fear she'd been feeling since she'd gotten mixed up with vampires, fairies, Weres and witches, and she jumped that bitch.

Sookie had a flash of guilt about roughing up the house, after she'd just tidied after her all night fuck-session the night before, but she knew Eric would help her when he rose for the night. He was really quick with a broom. She clocked Debbie in the face, and straddled her hips.

"You would have fucking killed me that night you came here, all hopped up on V, if I hadn't shot you, fucking junkie bitch. I wish I'd finished the job that night."

Debbie got her arm free and slapped her. "Fuck you, with your hands all over my man. I know you fucked him!"

"I didn't have sex with Alcide! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You're full of shit, you supe slut!"

She'd had enough. "Fuck you, bitch! Alcide deserves so much better!" Sookie growled, clocking her once more. Debbie was strong, but Sookie still had a hell of a lot of Bill's blood in her system from before she went to Faerie, so she had the advantage. "Why did you even come over here?"

"To tell you to stay away from my wolf!" Debbie shrieked, grabbing Sookie's hair. "I know he's in love with you!"

Sookie stopped hitting the she-wolf for a minute and looked at her. How the hell, in a matter of a few months, had she gone from being a virgin that no one even wanted to take to dinner to the object of affection for almost every man she'd run into? She decided that she'd ponder that later, when she didn't have a were-bitch struggling beneath her. She wished the rescinding invitation clause worked all supes, because that bitch would be out of here so fast.

"If he's in love with me, that's your problem, not mine, because I'm not in love with him!"

"She's in love with me, you filthy dog," a strong voice said, as a ragged looking Eric stood over them. "And I'm really hungry."

Sookie barely had time to roll off Debbie before Eric had her pinned against the the armoire door, his fangs buried in her neck. Sookie scrambled to her feet and gasped.

"Eric, no!"

He pulled away, Debbie limp in his arms, and looked at her curiously. "She smells like baby powder and wet dog. Her blood is terrible, but I'm so hungry. Do you want me to spare her?"

Sookie thought about it for a long minute. Even sober, Debbie still wanted her dead. She was pragmatic, and she knew that even without his memories, Eric knew how to dispose of a body.

"You know, I don't. And you've had a really long day. You lost a lot of blood..."

Before she could finished, Eric had his fangs back in Debbie's neck, growling slightly as he drank deeply. Sookie sat down on the couch and watched, somewhat enthralled. She'd never seen a vampire drain someone before, not to the point of death. It didn't look so bad.

Then again, she wasn't on the other end of the fangs.

When he was finished, he shot Sookie a wink. "Thank you, Lover."

_Lover_, Sookie thought to herself,_ I like that_. "Shall we put her where we put Tommy?"

Eric nodded. "I won't put her down, or her spilled blood will attract her mate."

"You know, I think Alcide will be much better off."

"She was vile. I don't ever remember having such terrible tasting blood."

Sookie giggled. "You've probably had worse in a thousand years."

"I hope not," Eric said with a smirk, blood all over his face. He leaned forward to kiss her, and though Sookie was grossed out by the blood, he gave her a peck on the cheek. "I'll be back," he said in all seriousness. She tried not to laugh at him since he didn't remember the Terminator movies.

Eric was gone for a while before she heard the sound of Debbie's car starting in the driveway. She smiled, pleased that Eric realized they had to dispose of the car. She was getting quite good at this whole murder and mayhem thing. She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, or given her current situation in life, a very good thing.

When Eric finally returned to the house, she had straightened up the furniture that had been overturned in the fight. She was sitting on the couch in her little pink robe, and she grinned when she saw him.

"Oh, Eric. You're so dirty."

His step faltered and he reached a hand up to the dried blood on his chin. "I'm sorry, Sookie. I should have cleaned up before I returned."

She bit her lip and stood, her eyes darkening with desire as she looked him up and down. "No, Lover. We should clean up together."

"A shower, Lover? I like the way you think." He scooped her up, bridal style, and carried her up the stairs.

Sookie laughed as his fangs popped out and he grinned at her. She wanted him. Oh, yes. And in that moment, when their eyes locked, it didn't matter how long she had with him. The only thing she cared about was the present...and the next twenty minutes before the hot water ran out.

That night, before she passed out from exhaustion in Eric's squeaky clean arms, she had one lingering thought.

If they kept killin' people, eventually he'd come, and they'd be ready for him.

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

**A/N: **

Thanks again for reading. It's odd to have such a good response to our murderous impulses. LOL


	5. Arlene

**The True Death**  
><strong>Chapter 5: Arlene<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.<strong>

**A/N:  
><strong>Okay, so Seastarr08 and I had majorly crazy weeks at work and this just couldn't get touched til the weekend. Sorry. But here it is. It's a little different this time, but we hope you'll still be satisfied. We just write it as it comes and sometimes we don't know what the hell is going to happen. This is one of those instances. Stop by and vote this week.

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Terry took a quick look at the dining room through the serving window at Merlotte's. It was hot as balls back in the kitchen, but from the twin peaks poking out of Holly's shirt, you could tell Sam had the air conditioning cranked in the dining room.

He dropped some chicken fried steak another batch of fries in the hot grease before turning to get another look at his wife, Arlene. Damn, he still liked the sound of that. He was a lucky man. She was a beautiful, kind woman. And she was smart; he thought so anyway. She was trouble though, that was for sure. She'd been through a lot. Married four times before she agreed to marry him, and now there was the baby. Her other kids were older and Mikey seemed to really be stressing her out. She had gotten some crazy ideas in her head that the baby was evil or possessed by her dead husband Reneé, but everything he read on the Google said that women were pretty hormonal for the whole first year after they had a baby. He figured she'd calm down after a while.

Arlene had baby Mikey in a carrier on her chest as she waited tables. They couldn't really afford a sitter so when they both had to work she just brought the baby with her to the restaurant. So far Sam hadn't complained, but there was that one day when he'd called her a redneck breeding machine, but he hadn't really been himself that day.

"Terry!" Arlene barked at him though the window before she dinged the 'order-up' bell at him.

"What? Jesus. Tits. America. You scared me! You know not to sneak up on me, baby. You're lucky I didn't shoot you."

Terry suffered from PTSD after his time in the Gulf War. He'd been known to drop to the floor when he heard a car backfire, and he sometimes got a little lost staring into the blades of the ceiling fan, but he didn't carry a gun, so Arlene knew he was full of shit.

Arlene rolled her eyes at the ridiculous phrase Terry had picked up from Andy recently. "I need that chicken fried steak for Mrs. Fortenberry. She's gettin' fidgity and I'm afraid she's gonna eat the baby."

"Comin' up, Sugar." He pulled the baskets out of the fryer and shook the grease off, waiting a few seconds before dumping them each onto a plate. Slopping a scoop of coleslaw beside the steak and fries, he took the dish to the counter, but held it just out of his wife's reach. "Give me some lovin'," he teased.

"Terry! Not now!" she huffed, irritated.

"Aw, come on, baby." He'd been watching her for hours and just needed a little kiss.

"Don't 'baby' me. I've been on my feet over four hours lugging this baby around and my boobs are leaky. Give me the meat, Terry, now."

He was properly chagrined as he lowered his eyes and handed her the plate. "Sorry, baby."

"Hmph. You can make it up to me later," she muttered as she walked away, her hips swinging and gum smacking. Baby Mikey was asleep, his little face buried between her leaky breasts.

The remainder of the lunch rush passed without incident. Arlene was refilling salt shakers after finally getting Mikey to play quietly in his pack 'n' play with his baby doll. She didn't know what it was about that scary doll that calmed him down, but it did.

Andy Bellefleur wandered in, hitching up his pants and heading straight to the window to the kitchen.

"Terry," his gruff voice called. "You got my steak ready? I don't have much time. Gotta get back out on patrol, you know?"

Arlene knew there wasn't that much to patrol in the Bon Temps area and something had been off with Andy lately anyway. He'd been twitchy and moody, even treated Holly all weird giving her mixed signals when he showed up then ran out on their lunch date.

"Sure thing, Andy," Terry answered him with a nod. "I made it how you asked, but I thought you liked your steaks well done. When'd you start liking it so rare?"

He bristled at his cousin's questions. "I don't know. Just tried it one time and liked it. What do you care?"

"Don't care really. Just observing. I'm good at that, you know? Did a lot of that in the war..."

Terry's eyes clouded over a bit and he got lost in his head. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed before he turned to make his way out of the kitchen towards the store room. Andy felt bad that he'd somehow pushed his cousin back into his painful memories, but before he could call out to Terry, his harpy wife started yelling.

"Damn it," Arlene snapped. "Now look what you've done, Andy. It's been hard for him having to live in your granny's house since the fire. Too much change. Why'd you have to stir him up? You know better."

"This ain't my fault," he muttered, then spoke a little louder. "Get off my back, Arlene. Getting mixed up with you has him all screwed up; don't you go blaming it on me."

The baby started crying and Arlene scooped him up to hold him on her hip. She rubbed Mikey's back as she raised an eyebrow at Andy and unloaded weeks, maybe months, of frustration on him.

"You listen here, mister. I don't know what's going on with you but you ain't been right. What the hell was with how you treated Holly the other day? You took her flowers with you when you ran out on her - how could you do that? How dare you hurt her feelings like that. You've never been a mean person, but that was downright nasty. Now you're questioning Terry when all he did was ask you a question? You should be ashamed..."

He heard her voice continuing with her tirade, but the words didn't register anymore. The thoughts in his head drowned her out as they screamed at him to get her to shut up so he could eat his food and go find some V. He knew he was running out of time before the real withdrawal set in and it wasn't going to be pretty.

His thoughts moved to figuring out how to get his hands on more vampire blood and he almost smiled when he thought about killing two birds with one stone. Literally. He could use Arlene's dumb ass to bait a trap to catch his own vampire to drain. Well, not drain, just siphon. He imagined letting the vampire feed off of the skanky redhead so they'd be nice and full. Since figured that vampires got sleepy when they were full like humans, that would be his opportunity to pounce. He'd gotten some of that liquid silver and figured he'd spray the vampire's eyes so they couldn't I.D. him, then he'd take enough blood to get him through til he could find another dealer. Maybe in Shreveport. Or Dallas. He might have to go a little farther to buy his V so the local vampires didn't find out what he was up to.

Shaking his head, he realized Arlene was still bitching him out. He looked in the kitchen, but Terry was still off getting his head together. He mumbled something at Arlene that could have been "whatever" or "what the fuck," she wasn't really sure, before turning on his heel and leaving the bar. He had shit to do and a habit to feed.

**Five hours later...**

"Terry will be better off without her," Andy justified to himself as he waited in the bushes for Arlene to leave Merlotte's. He knew his cousin would be there for at least another hour cleaning the fat traps, and that Arlene had already insisted that he hold onto Mikey while she had some time on her own. She really wasn't much of a mother. Andy had seen that with her older kids during that weird time in the town that no one quite remembered. Andy knew that their MeeMaw Bellefleur would help Terry raise Mikey once she was gone and at least he would have a shot at a better life.

He was practically a social worker, helping out like he was.

Arlene, as predicted, huffed out of Merlotte's around nine, and Andy was ready for her. She shrieked as he jumped out of the bushes, rope in hand.

"Christ on a cracker, Andy, you scared the Jesus right out of me," she choked out, once she calmed down. "What the hell are you doin' out here in the bushes?"

"You're going to come with me, Arlene. I...I have some work for you."

"I just worked a double, Andy. Last thing I'm interested in is more work." She put her hands on her hips. "I just want to take a load off for an hour until I've gotta put Mikey and the other kids to bed. That little bugger is heavy."

Andy knew it was now or never. He grabbed the redhead and clamped his hand over her mouth. "My cousin's way too good for the likes of you. He's too damn nice, stickin' with you when that baby that ain't even his."

Arlene tried to scream from under his hand, but to no avail. Even though Andy was going through heavy withdrawal, he was still much stronger than her. He dragged her off to his cop car, tying a blindfold on her, before tossing her in the trunk. He drove off towards the pond near the Stackhouse property; he always felt like there was something off around that place. Lately it was like it was a portal to hell or another world.

He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the car, cutting her leg open as she scraped along the housing for the taillights. Pursing his lips, he nodded. That'd work. He wouldn't have to hurt her himself if she was already bleeding. He pulled her the rest of the way out of the car, not being too careful about it, and she cursed at him for tearing up her favorite jeans. He pulled the blindfold down and tied it around her mouth like a gag to get her to shut up.

Walking down towards the pond, he carried Arlene over his shoulder while she kicked at him and tried to scream. He tied her hands behind her back and sat her down, leaning her back against a tree, then he tied her to it. Mumbling to himself, he set out a bear trap that he hoped would snag a vampire when it was drawn to Arlene's bloody gash. Heading back to into the trees, he used a broken branch to brush away his footprints and sprayed some _C'Mere Deer_ he used for hunting to cover his scent. He tucked himself behind a tree, used to sitting in a deer blind or at the occasional stakeout or roadblock, waiting for a vampire to come for the dumb bitch moaning and bleeding. He started to get fidgity after about five minutes and he blamed it on the damn V. That shit was really doing a number on him. His mouth watered at the thought of getting his hands on more.

The snapping of a twig brought his head up and a blur of motion moved through the woods before stopping next to Arlene. A young looking male vampire squatted next to her, eying her injuries and her predicament. Andy had never seen the vamp before, but that didn't really mean anything, he just hoped the fucker was hungry.

The vampire looked around, as if trying to sense if anyone else was around. Andy did an internal fist-pump at the thought that his C'Mere Deer had fooled the vamp. But his celebration was too soon. The fanger turned his head towards Andy's hiding spot, narrowed his eyes and growled before taking off at vampire speed back the he'd come from.

Shit. Fuck. Double Damn. What now? Andy banged his head against the tree trunk so hard that he was going to have a goose egg and Arlene continued to writhe around and moan. He debated going up there and kicking the cut on her leg to start the bleeding again, but he heard the sounds of a car coming up the old two track towards him. It was driving too fast for the rutted road, coming quick and then screeching to a halt. He was about to bolt when he heard a voice calling out for them.

"Andy! Arlene! I know you're here!"

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Terry was heading home and had just locked up the bar when he noticed something shiny in the parking lot.

His heart fell when he saw what they were. Arlene's keys. He looked back into the darkness and saw her car parked there. He clutched Mikey close. "We'll find her, buddy. We've just gotta. I can't raise all you kids and Felix on my own."

Mikey gurgled up at him, his tiny mouth wobbling. Terry knew that face. He was hungry.

Terry took a few deep breaths and then did what he knew was right. He called the police. While he was waiting for them, he sat on the steps at Merlotte's, head in his hands, worried that the one person who had halfway accepted him was gone forever.

"What's goin' on, Terry?" Holly questioned as she sat beside him. Merlotte's didn't have a sous-chef, so each night one of the waitresses had to do some prep-work in the kitchen for the following day. It had been Holly's turn that night. "You look like someone killed Felix."

"I think Arlene's been taken," he sobbed, unable to hold in the tears any longer.

"Arlene's been taken?" Jason Stackhouse asked, overhearing the conversation as he walked up the steps. "I couldn't tell what you were sayin' on the phone."

"Who would have taken her, Terry?" Holly questioned. "Did she have any enemies?"

Jason and Terry snorted at the same time but Terry spoke first. "Sure, she pissed off lots of customers and she has three ex-husbands that're still alive, but ain't nobody wants her dead or nothin like that."

Jason looked thoughtful. "She has been kind noisy about how she doesn't like vampires."

Terry's eyes, full of fear, shot to Jason's. "You think the vampires took her? Oh no. Oh no. What am I gonna do?"

"Hey now, sweetie. No need jumping to conclusions," Holly tried to calm him. "Right, Jason? We don't know what happened. Maybe she went home with someone else and they're gonna drop her back off here. Did you call her cell phone?"

"We're out of minutes," Terry said sadly. He was starting to think dark and twisted, worried thoughts. What could have happened to Arlene?

Mikey started to cry and from the way Terry started to twitch, Holly knew she needed to take the baby inside and find him something to eat. She grabbed the diaper bag next to Terry and patted his shoulder. "It'll be all right, sugar. You just let me take care of Mikey here for a minute and get your head together."

While she heated water for his bottle, she changed the baby's diaper real quick, knowing he'd be out like a light after eating. She took the bottle out of the hot water bath and tested the temperature on the inside of her wrist before settling down at the bar. Mikey took to the bottle right away and settled down, blissfully closing his eyes as he drank in big gulps.

Jason wandered in and gave her an sheepish look. "I'm just gonna use the phone in here. Andy ain't answering on the cell phone."

She didn't want to tell him that his logic was seriously flawed, so she kept her mouth shut and nodded politely.

He had his back to her, speaking quickly and what she supposed he thought was quietly, to leave a voice-mail. "Andy, it's Jason. I need your help, man. We got what's gonna be a missin' persons case if Arlene don't turn up. Damn, man, where you at? You better not be out all messed up on V again or off somewhere trying to get more. I told you you gotta get your shit together with that. It's bad news, bro. All right. Call me back. Maybe I'll go try to get you on the police radio. Um. Okay. Bye."

Jason smiled at Holly and headed back outside, oblivious to the surprise in her eyes.

_Andy was on V?_ That explained a lot. Holly thought about the way he'd acted when he showed up for their lunch date and the things people had been saying about his sloppy appearance and mood swings. She'd seen addicts in her life, and when she put the pieces together, everything fit for Andy. She shook her head, chastising herself for worrying about Andy and how he got his fix when Arlene could be missing.

Suddenly, it was if all of the thoughts in her head lined up on a grid and came together to make a perfect line. She looked down and Mikey was asleep, occasionally taking a suck from the bottle. She pulled it away and watched him for a few more seconds, making sure he was really sleeping, then put him down in the pack 'n' play.

When she stepped outside Terry was still sitting on the stoop, his head in his hands, while Jason was next to the police cruiser, trying to raise Andy on the radio. She told Terry the baby was sleeping and made her way to the car. Both men were too distracted to realize she was leaving.

Once she got out onto the main road, she wondered where Andy could have taken Arlene and how he would use her to get V, because she was sure that's what this was all about. It was a full moon and vampires would be out and about, but she didn't know where to find any. Sookie would. There were always vampires around her.

That was it. There were always vampires around her. And her home. Holly whipped the car around and made her way towards Hummingbird Lane. She was glad that she'd gone with Sam to check the house after Sookie first disappeared so she knew where it was. She was about to turn into the driveway when she had a thought; he wouldn't take Arlene to the house. He'd go somewhere more secluded...

She saw another driveway beyond the nice one with all the new gravel and headed for that one. It was more of a two-track, over grown with weeds, but the plants were crushed and it was obvious that someone had recently driven over the path. There was a 'No Trespassing - Stackhouse Property' sign and Holly knew that she'd chosen the right drive.

She drove a little faster, her imagination getting the best of her as she worried about both Andy and Arlene. Pulling up behind Andy's cruiser, she slammed the car in park and jumped out. Making her way down the trail towards the pond, she called out for them.

"Andy! Arlene! I know you're here!"

Up ahead she heard some moaning and saw Arlene tied to a tree just off the walkway. Holly cringed inside. Jason had been right. Andy was doin' V and he was not playing with a full deck as of late.

Holly approached them cautiously, and put her hands out in front of her. "Now Andy, you don't want to do this. Step away from her, and we can all go home. None of us have been ourselves lately."

Andy looked at her, his face wild. "Holly, now don't you get involved with this."

Holly winced. "Andy, I know I don't know you very well, but people in this town, they like you, and I know they don't think you're capable of this. Once you do it, there's no turning back. She's a mother, with kids who need her, a husband who needs her. Come on now. I know you're messed up. Lord knows, we've all been a little messed up from time to time, but don't do this. You'll ruin your life and hers."

"What kind of life do I have? I live with my grandma and I'm an addict. What do you care anyway," he grumbled.

"Oh, Andy," she sighed, feeling sad for how defeated he sounded. "You're just mixed up. You've got plenty to live for. You've got lots of friends and the town needs you. Sheriff Dearborn is full on retired, you can't leave the town to Jason to protect. He's a sweet boy, but he just doesn't have what it takes."

Andy smirked at her comment about Jason. "He ain't that bright; that's for sure. He's a good kid though."

"And you could help him be a good police officer, Andy," she met his eyes, "but not if you go through with this."

"Aw, hell. You're probably right but Arlene ain't never gonna keep quiet. I'm probably going to jail over this anyway."

"You let me worry about that," she said quietly. She knew a spell or two that would help Arlene forgive him and forget the time she'd spent tied to the tree. "Why don't you go sit in the car and I'll go get Arlene untied?"

He nodded, glad she had a plan because his brain was too exhausted to come up with one. He supposed that's how he ended up in this situation to begin with.

A few minutes later, Holly knocked on the window of Andy's cruiser, startling him. "She's in the car. I need you to put in a radio call to make sure Jason's not still at Merlotte's."

"Yeah, okay. I can do that," he said with a nod. As he followed Holly's car to the main road, he used the radio and called Jason, telling the rookie to meet him at the strip club in Monroe because someone had called in a tip Arlene was there. He knew Jason would get distracted there and be gone for a few hours.

They pulled around the back of the bar and Terry ran over to meet them.

"Arlene? Oh, baby! I was so worried! Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his wife into his arms.

"I'm okay," she said weakly. "I'm real tired. I went for a little walk, you know for a little alone time. I knew as soon as I got home the kids would be chattering and pulling at my shirt and I just couldn't take it today, but then I got lost.I don't know what happened... I must have tripped or something."

"I think she hit her head," Holly added.

"I must have," Arlene agreed. "And I scratched myself on something. I should have known better than to walk through the woods. Me and mother nature don't really get along."

Andy snorted and Terry hugged his wife ferociously as they made their way into the bar.

"You're sure you're all right?" Terry asked again as he rubbed a hand over her hair, it had some twigs in it and her eye make-up was streaked from crying.

She glanced around at the three of them them looking so worried about her, and she couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't all right.

"I never wanted a storyline of my own," Arlene sobbed, as Terry stroked her back to comfort her. "I just want to raise my kids with the man I love, work at my job, maybe raise a little hell on my days off. I'm not Sookie Stackhouse, runnin' off with vampires or hearin' people's thoughts. I never wanted any of this. Once Reneé died, I...just wanted a bit of peace."

Holly nodded. "And you can have that now. Go on, live your quiet little life. You can pop back in now and then and throw a bigoted line in here or there like you were meant to do, but you'll never again have to deal with likes of fuckery like this."

Terry nodded. "I need your help raisin' the kids and Felix. I don't want _him_ doin' nothing to take you away from me."

"_He_ can't hurt you now," Holly added. "I put a very powerful third tier character spell on both of you. You'll be a part of the background forever, destined to remind Sookie that people aren't to be trusted."

"I'm just fine with that," Arlene sniffed. " We we never meant to be lead characters. I don't like all that supernatural mumbo jumbo. Me and Terry just want to be left alone."

Holly nodded. "Exactly. You hate that supernatural mumbo jumbo. That's all you need to remember. Andy?" Holly glanced over at the rather broken man sitting at the bar. "You need to dispose of that doll. There's something not right about it."

Both Arlene and Terry agreed, things hadn't been right since _he_ came to town, but their lives had gotten even worse since that damn scary doll had shown up.

Andy lifted his head from his hands, and his sad eyes met Holly's. "Will you come with me?"

She gave him a knowing grin. "I sure will."

It was three in the morning, the witching hour for those that believed in such things, when Holly and Andy drove back out to the lake at the old Stackhouse property, the doll that had caused all this mess safely secured in a vat of fryer oil in the trunk of his squad car.

"Andy, you need to get some help for your V-addiction. I think you're a great guy, and you know, I'd like to get to know you better, but I've seen what vampires and addiction can do to people, and I can't get swept into that world again." Her eyes met his. "Would you do it for me?"

Andy looked into Holly's pretty eyes. He'd liked her for weeks, which was practically an eternity in True Blood time. "Yeah, I think I could give that a shot."

"I know of a good place in Shreveport that would be able to fix you right up," Holly said with a grin, patting his shoulder. "It'll be good, you getting clean."

Andy nodded, as he knew she was right. "Let's get rid of this fucked up doll."

The two of them lifted the vat from the trunk and carried to the lake, both unconcerned with the environmental ramifications of what they were doing. They both gasped when the ghost of a young black woman appeared in front of them.

"No," she wept. "Where's my bébé?"

"He's not your baby," Holly said, matter of fact. "Your baby died a long time ago, just like you. Now go in peace, ya hear?"

"I want my bébé!" The woman screamed from the middle of the lake. "My bébé!"

Holly muttered some things in a language that Andy didn't understand, and the woman slowly began to fade into the lake, her screams becoming muted and finally silenced.

"Some of them don't go easy," Holly said, shaking her head. "She was a very powerful spirit."

"How do you know all about this stuff?" Andy asked curiously.

"Let's save some chitchat for our first real date," Holly said, patting his arm.

The two of them trudged back through the woods, but were distracted by some moaning off in the distance.

"We should go investigate," Andy said begrudgingly. "If not, I'll likely just have to deal with it tomorrow."

Holly nodded. "It's the right thing to do, really."

They walked toward the noises, and it was soon apparent that there were at least two of whatever were moaning and panting, and from the trail of clothing and undergarments that began to appear, it quickly became obvious that the moans were sexual.

"Shit. Sounds like some couple's just out here fucking." Andy knew that stranger things had happened in these woods.

Holly shook her head. "He could be rapin' her. We have to make sure."

Andy shrugged. "All right. We'll check it out then."

As they approached, they saw two figures moving against each pressed up against a big tree, Andy raised an eyebrow as he recognized Jason's sister Sookie, who was a known fangbanger. He resisted the urge to charge in and bite the big vamp's leg, knowing that Holly most certainly wouldn't approve, and the vamp would probably kill him for trying.

"Is that Sookie...and that blond vampire that attacked Marnie?" Holly whispered. "Holy shit. He's got her up against a tree."

"We could go help her," Andy said, peering into the darkness, wondering if there would be any way a few drops of some vamp fluid would make his way into his mouth if they interrupted. They both watched for a little too long as Eric ravaged Sookie, both of them unconcerned with the world around them.

Holly shook her head. "I don't think she wants our help. Looks like she's enjoyin' it."

Andy nodded. "I heard sex on V is amazing..."

"No," Holly said bluntly, punching his arm. "You're going to clean up your act, mister, and then we'll talk. Now let's get out of here before they notice us."

They got back into the car and headed into Bon Temps. She put her hand over Andy's on the seat and he gave her a knowing smile. She'd stopped him from majorly fucking up in the woods, saving his life in more ways than one.

The night was quiet as they left the woods behind them, but Holly's spell over the lake made it churn strangely in the middle, the ripples reaching all the way to the shore.

She could never have known what she stirred up.

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

**A/N:**

See what I mean… different, but still satisfying. Like – pork, the other white meat. OMG I'm delirious. Long week. Late night. Much writing today. Sorry. LOL

Thanks again for reading. See you next week.


	6. Marnie

**The True Death**

**Chapter 6: Marnie**

**Disclaimer: We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.**

**A/N:**

We're back! It looks like you enjoyed the different kind of story we gave you last week. We're glad, it was one of those things that could have gone either way with readers. So, thanks for diggin' it. This week our least favorite witch and spirit from the past are in the line of fire. Hope you like what we've come up with.

Real life is pretty nutty for Seastarr and I right now, so next week might not make it up til Sunday again. Don't think we've forgotten about you, it's just hard to coordinate writing together with two busy lives.

We're narrowing down the side characters - you can vote for next week's death here:

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Eric tried to search his mind to figure out how he'd ended up in his current predicament. He had memories that he knew were there but couldn't access. Sookie had told him he was under an amnesia spell and he believed her, because he couldn't remember anything before she found him. He had a feeling there was more going on than just that though. Amnesia was one thing, but how had he ended up shirtless and running down some side road in Bon Temps without his shoes? Why Bon Temps, and what were the odds that Sooke would find him? Something didn't add up.

And now he was in Marnie's, or Antonia's, storage room feeling like a puppet. He wasn't sure what to call her.

He'd decided that he didn't want to remember who he was if it would cost him Sookie. He felt a connection so powerful and a peace so encompassing that he never wanted to leave her. The things she and Pam said about his former self were shocking. He couldn't imagine ever being a hard-hearted, shrewd, womanizing bastard, but even the King seemed shocked at his current behavior.

He'd been hesitant when Sookie told him that they needed to stand beside Bill to fight the witches. It wasn't because he didn't want to fight. He wasn't afraid of that; he didn't want Sookie in danger. He was more afraid of losing her than he was of never getting his memories back. But she'd insisted, and he'd learned in the course of only a few days that when she dug her heels in, there was no budging her. So he'd found himself along side Sookie, Bill and a ragtag group of vampires, standing up against the witches. Sookie was a warrior, a woman after his own heart - he knew that much even without his memories - and he couldn't let her get away.

The King spoke to the witches, promising that they would be unharmed, but Antonia, through Marnie, would hear none of it. Then, out of no where, Eric found himself pulling some human's jugular out with his hand and holding it up for the witches to see. All hell broke out in that instant, with fighting going on all around him. He felt Sookie's pain when she was injured, but he couldn't move. He dropped to his knees, forced by some unknown will, and found himself under the witch's control. She was rotten to the core, he could sense it, but he was helpless against her.

Sookie had come to him somehow at the magic store, trying to help him escape. He'd sensed her getting closer, but even when he looked down on her, he couldn't bring himself to go anywhere with her. His feet were rooted to the storage room floor, awaiting Marnie's orders. He grew angrier and angrier inside, frustrated at the witch's possession and his inability to shake her control or tell Sookie about his predicament.

Eventually, he hid in the corner for the daytime, covering himself with heavy tarps because he didn't know how light tight the room was. He was resting in down time when he heard the storage room door open. Marntonia spoke in her lisping accent, telling him to join her coven in the main room. He shuffled out, feeling lethargic. His brain seemed fuzzy and all he could hear were the witch's rambling words.

"My friends, the time has come for us to destroy the demons who parade in the darkness, pretending they are superior. They believe that their secrets are the great mysteries of the world and that they are superior because they are immortal - but this is not true. They can be killed and tonight we will show them how susceptible they are."

The crowd murmured in agreement and through the haze in his brain, Eric wondered if they had been glamoured.

Marntonia spoke again, calling for her minions to do whatever was necessary to eradicate the undead and protect humanity. She spoke of Eric as a great weapon and he was helpless to argue with her, to tell her she was swine and that he wanted her to die, slowly and painfully, at his own hands.

Eric was incredibly irritated over the lack of control he'd been forced to contend with lately. He was much happier putting himself in Sookie's hands though, over this witch. He'd lived for a thousand years, and although he could remember none of it, there had to be a way out of this.

So alone, truly alone for the first time since he lost his memory, he started probing the recesses of his blank mind, looking for clues to how the old Eric would have gotten out of this.

He knew few truths. He knew he was in the clutches of witches, under at least two curses, and that he loved Sookie Stackhouse. He knew he had vampire child, who was also under a spell of some sort, and that he had a king, who he would likely kill if he could not take control of his life.

He listened carefully to the mumblings outside his storage closet.

"She's gone done lost her mind!"

"I didn't sign up for this!"

"We've got to get the fuck out of here! I don't want half the vamps in America after my ass!"

"This crazy bitch is going to be the death of us all!"

Not exactly the words of a supportive coven, Eric thought to himself. He wondered if there might be a way to sway some of them to his side. As if they'd heard his thoughts, two of the witches, the ones that seemed most familiar with his lover, walked into his closet and closed the door behind them.

"I bet he could kill her. He's awful strong," the blonde one named Holly said. At least that's who Eric thought it was anyway, based on her voice.

"But he's under her spell," Good Tara said, unsure of how she'd ended up in this coven to begin with and why no one even noticed that she wasn't an angry stereotype any more. She was just being slotted in scenes haphazardly now and tried her damnedest to make things better when she could. "I wonder how we break it."

"I want to help," Eric gasped out, hoping they'd notice him under the tarp. "I think I have an idea, but I will need a weapon."

"I thought they slept durin' the day," the one he thought was blonde said, carefully lifting the tarp up. "Hi, under there. Aren't so mean now, are you?"

"I am sorry for any injustice that I did to you," Eric choked out. "I will seduce her and finish her."

Holly looked at the rather pathetic looking vampire, hiding from the sun under an old drop sheet. "Sweetie, I don't think she's going to have any interest in that."

"She has been dead for many years. I'm sure she has...urges."

Tara and Holly looked at one another, an intrigued expression passing between them, before they both started laughing.

"You know, he's right. She'd probably be much less of a bitch if she got laid," Tara said, chuckling.

"Sexual frustration will turn a sane woman nuts," Holly said, laughing in agreement. "We got no other ideas. Maybe we should give it a shot. How do we make this happen, vampire?"

Eric thought about it. Sookie seemed to think his sexual abilities were fairly good, so he could offer that. "Tell her that you have heard tales of my sexual prowess, and that it would be a good way for her to prove her dominance over me, forcing me to submit sexually. Then, I," he made a motion with his hand as if he was stabbing someone. "And we try and break all the spells together. The ones that need breaking, anyway."

Holly thought about it. "Lemme try and pitch this, and I'll be back. I mean, I think I'll feel bad about killing Marnie and all, but shit, this bitch is too much."

Good Tara nodded. "Let's get you back to Sookie, where you belong."

Eric gave an unnecessary sigh. "Thank you."

"There will come a time when we may ask you for a favour," Holly said, in her best Godfather tone.

"I will be at your beck and call," he said with a weak grin.

Holly covered the vampire back up and the two women went back into the main area. They huddled together in the corner together to devise a plan.

"We could tell her that we had sex with him and he's very good at sex," she said thoughtfully. "That he's got a gracious plenty of cock."

"If all things are in proportion, he probably does," Tara said, a smile on her face. "We won't even have to lie about it."

"How do you just bring that up? Hey, you crazy bitch, why don't you relax with a good lay before you continue on with your plan to destroy all the vampires?"

Tara shrugged. "This situation is so fucked up that it couldn't hurt to try."

"You want to take the lead on that?" Holly asked, nodding at Martonia, who was pacing in the front of the store. "She seems to like you."

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot. What the hell do we have to lose? You find him a weapon," Tara said, standing up and striding confidently towards Martonia.

"Hi," she said with a confident grin. "How's the plan going?"

Martonia looked at her curiously. "It's going well, Tara. Thank you for asking."

"Too bad that vampire you captured is going to be a kamikaze, because he's hot. I'd tap that," Tara said, casually, trying not to seem too weird even as she cringed at the word 'tap.' She was out of her element. She wished she was fitting someone for a bra or recommending a nice pair of shoes. She smiled at the witch and continued, "I bet he's built, under that terrible jacket."

Martonia looked at her indifferently. "As a man, he was probably handsome, but as a vampire, he's a monster. I have no attraction to that creature."

"He thinks you're interesting," Tara said, wondering how the hell she was going to make this happen. "He told me he's attracted to power, and that you really do it for him."

"Why were you talking to the prisoner?" Martonia asked, inclining her head towards Tara. "And during the day?"

"I...I was curious to see the power that you wielded over him. It was very impressive," she said with a faux look of admiration in her eyes. "Your dominance is so amazing. He can hardly sleep."

Marnie gave a half grin and cocked her chin. "I am very powerful."

"He would like to see more of that power. I think you could own him. Make him yours completely."

"It has been many years since I have had a man."

Tara resisted the urge to say it had probably been many years since Marnie had had a man too. "You can show him that you're really the boss. You'd have him eating out of your hands."

The witch looked at her thoughtfully. "I guess if I'm going to be in a body, I may as well enjoy it." She adjusted the front of her dress and puckered her lips.

Tara wondered what Antonia looked like when she was in her own body. She guessed it was better than Marnie's from the confident strut she had when she walked into the storage room. She quickly scrambled to find Holly, who was sitting in the corner, a wicked grin on her face.

"I found him an ivory knife that's used in some ritualistic magic shit. It was sharp as hell. He's ready to go."

"Now what?" Tara said, glancing around at the others.

"Now, we wait and see what happens. If he fails, she'll know we tried to fuck her over, literally, and she'll probably kill us. If not, then I guess we'll have to get to breaking some spells."

So they waited.

When Martonia walked in to the back room, Eric was ready for her. He'd adjusted the tarp so it protected him from the sunlight, but allowed the witch to see him. His hair less puffy than it had been, and his shirt partly unbuttoned to reveal his firm chest. There was a slight trickle of blood coming from his ear, but he made no move to wipe it away, wishing not to draw attention it.

"What is the honour of this visit, my master?" he asked in a purring voice that seemed to make Sookie putty in his hands.

"It's almost time," Martonia said firmly. "Tell me, Eric, had you heard of me?"

"Mistress, you erased my memories, but I'm certain I'd heard of your strength and the fear you inspired in my kind. You are very powerful."

"I _am_ powerful. You will do well to remember that death is not the end. The world is mysterious and fluid; I am proof of this." She fluffed her hair, proof that it was truly an age old custom, and took a step towards him. "Vampires are sexual beasts, no? I hear that you are even better than most."

Eric held held her gaze. "I've had no complaints. In fact, most women beg me for more."

"I will not beg you for anything."

"I wouldn't expect it, master." He lowered himself to his knees before her, playing his role perfectly. "How may I please you?"

She shuddered at the thought of what he could do to her. Putting her foot on a box, she lifted her skirt and pulled his face towards her center. "Do your best, devil."

Eric knew that giving her an orgasm was likely to leave her vulnerable and leaned into her body, ignoring the sour taste of her essence as he licked and stroked her to release. He looked up at her, holding onto the shelves behind her for support, her chest heaving and her eyes glazed over, and knew his plan was working.

"You are wicked and evil. I will kill you myself when I'm done with you," she spat the words at him even as she pulled him up by the hair to stand in front of her. "You are talented with your mouth, but what of your cock?"

For a second, he imagined himself shoving his cock so far down her throat that she choked on it, but he managed to raise an eyebrow at the witch as he opened the fly on his jeans. He was partially hard already, he always found anticipation of battle a little arousing. He stroked himself, and the knowledge that he'd used sex as a weapon in the past helped him keep his focus.

She lifted her skirt and gave him a disgusted look. "Fuck me, vampire. I do not wish to see your face but only to have my needs met."

He nodded, biting back a growl, his desire to kill her becoming almost overwhelming as she turned around. She had no idea that she was playing into his hands.

Leaning down, he ran a hand up her leg, teasing her as he pulled the ivory blade from his boot. She surprised him, reaching behind her to fist his hair in her hand. "Now, dead man," she hissed.

He leaned forward, his cock grazing her body as he whispered in her ear, "I am no one's pet."

Before she could react, he plunged the ivory blade through her back and into her heart. She gasped, turning her head towards him, eyes wide in horror before the life went out of them.

He took a step back, and her body fell to the ground. A dizzying feeling came over him in a rush, and then he was free. His memories were still gone, though he knew now if he dug deep enough they were still there, but he was once again, in control of himself.

Eric staggered out into the larger room, fastening his pants and dragging Marnie's corpse, which he lay in the middle of the floor.

"You're all free to go. This is over," he announced.

"Now that's a sex related injury, bitch!" Holly said, jumping up and down. "Whoooo!"

Eric wiped his mouth. "I need a mint. Or maybe some gum. That was...something I hope to never relive."

Tara and Holly wrinkled their noses and quickly rummaged in their purses. "Wow, I thought you'd just kiss her or something," Tara said, handing over a box of Tic Tacs. "I'm...I'm so sorry."

"I no longer wish to kill the king, so I assume her death broke her sway over me. Unfortunately, the original spell was cast by Marnie, so I still have no idea who I am."

Tara pulled out her cell-phone, which miraculously had reception once more. "Let me call Sookie. She'll take you home, you poor man."

Eric glanced between the two witches. "Would either of you have any objections to keeping this between us? This is not a conversation I wish to have with my lover. It would...impact our reunion."

They both nodded. "That would be fine," Holly said. "We all did what we had to do."

Tara laughed. "I just thank the sweet Lord that you were her type and I wasn't."

Holly smiled at him. "I'll start digging through Marnie's spell books to see if I can't get you your memory back, and I'll try to fix Pam for you. She's a mess."

Eric looked at her, conflicted. "I...I am not sure I want my memory back."

Holly frowned at him. "Don't you want to know who you are?"

Eric looked up thoughtfully. "I need to think about it."

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

**A/N: **

Thanks so much for reading. I'm sure that by the time some of you read this the episode will have aired and this might not have been accurate - but hey - it's fanfic. (Then again, so is True Blood.) Hope everyone has a great week!

Oh - and we cant' take credit for Marntonia - T read it on a blog somewhere, but of course, she can't remember where. sorry.


	7. Marcus

**The True Death**

**Chapter 7: Marcus**

**Disclaimer: We don't own this. You're fully aware of that.**

**A/N:**

So...I know you've heard this a couple of weeks in a row, but real life has been nuts. I won't bore you with the details. LOL Sorry if you just watched the episode. We hope you can still appreciate this death.

Also - Um...if you don't know who Hans von Hozel is...you might want to come back and check out this link when you're done reading. **http:/bit(dot)ly/93bKDQ **Part of the SVM/TB community has kind of fallen in love with his wackiness. It seems to kind of go right along with the insanity of this story - so...yeah. Hope you see the connection. Here's the link to the weekly HvH one-shot challenge in the fandom **http:/bit(dot)ly/oxoUtV**

I'm not entirely sure what the plan is - how we're going to swing our "finale" if you will...but check back on our blogs tomorrow (Monday). **Seastarr08** is currently hunkered down somewhere without wi-fi. I'm sure she's all twitchy. I know I am from lack of chatting with her. :)

Me: http:/missustfanfic(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

Seastarr08: http:/seastarr08(d0t)wordpress(d0t)com/

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Sam no likey Marcus. He mean Packmaster. First time they meet, Marcus say mean things to Luna and baby Emma. Sam do likey Emma. They play Barbies. She mini cute.

Then Alcide bring Tommy home. Bloody, coughing, gurgling, dying. Sam no likey this, either. Make him cry girly tears. His whole family in shifter heaven. This make Sam sad.

Alcide tell Sam Tommy was in his body pretendering to be him. Sam very mad. He growl like animal and he not even shifted. He make Alcide take him to Marcus motorcycle machine gay-rage. Sam yell a lot. Alcide act nerves. Marcus shake in black combat boots, but act tough. Alcide drag Sam out of bike shop, but Sam not leave. He wait outside by garbage smelling can.

Marcus come outside into dark sky and Sam shift into big dragon. Bigger than baby dragons on TV show. No little dragon, Sam be fireburping giant.

Alcide yell, "What fuck?"

Marcus shift into wolf-dog and bite Sam-dragon's ankles. Sam-dragon pick dog up in snaggly teeth and toss but dog come back, teeth snappy. Sam think dog play fun, but dragon inside make big fireburp and Were-dog crispy. Stinky. But no gurgly.

Alcide yell, "What fuck?" again.

Sam-dragon fireburp at him too, but Alcide not close.

"Sam, come home!"

Sam-dragon hear Alcide whimperfy. Sam-human shift himself back, panstshittting over what his eyeballs digesting. Sam and Alcide put brains together, make recipe for ashy-bones where no one find.

A swamp! Danube!

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

**A/N:  
><strong>Um. Yeah. So again - different. I already gave you the Pork - the other with meat line...So. ah, oh - I've got it! Wolf - yet another white meat. Just kidding. Kind of.

Hope you enjoyed the silliness. See you next week for the big finish.


	8. Alan

**The True Death**  
><strong>Chapter 8: Alan<strong>

**A/N:  
>Thank you all for taking this insanely fun, murderous journey with us. We hope you enjoyed it more than this season of True Blood. It had its moments, but overall it left me very sad… At any rate, here's our very own season finale. We hope that it leaves you with a better taste in your mouth. *snort*<strong>

**-xxxxx-xxxxx-**

He was aware that he had a rather polarizing effect on people. In fact, he quite liked it. He enjoyed getting people upset, excited, frustrated and animated even. It meant he'd done his job. He'd brought their emotions out through the television. Not all writers or producers could say that. Then again, not all of them wanted to.

He looked around the set of the fictional Bon Temps and loved the little scene he'd created. Sure Charlaine Harris had come up with the initial idea; he was just, as they say, bringing it to life. He'd made Merlotte's and Fangtasia in his own vision, even creating that spooky dungeon of a basement out of his own imagination. And Sookie's home. He'd dreamed that up too. Finally, in this season, he'd been able to create a decent hiding place for a vampire in her basement. It had always disturbed him in the books that the vampires basically hid under the floorboards at Sookie's. There were too many vampires passing the daytime there for that to be acceptable. But since he'd basically stolen the stories out from the original author's nose, he could do what he wanted. And he did.

He made Tara a much stronger, more bitter character and brought Lafayette back from the dead. Bill Compton was given his much deserved role of king, and Eric, the murderous thug, was relegated his role of Sheriff. Harris had given him too much power.

He adapted the story to his views as well, layering Hitchcockian themes with subliminal and folkloric messages. He fancied himself a powerful storyteller and just knew the viewers would love the way he twisted their beloved characters to create his own version of the stories. It was his very own fanfiction. A dark and twisty, sexy and bloody homage to the original. He loved how it had all played out. Viewers were only given hints of what he wanted them to know. His use of different narrators kept everyone guessing and thanks to the ratings, he could just keep fucking with things as long as he wanted.

He had a plan for the final season. In the meantime, he was immensely enjoying the upheaval he created in the fandom. He loved to watch people squirm. In reality, the show was his own personal experiment in sociology, psychology and anthropology. He was loving the addition of social media into his interaction with viewers. It gave him one more layer to manipulate and interface with the media and the public viewership.

A loud sound brought him from the inner musings of his mind. He turned around to see little Coby Fowler, or the actor who played him whose name he'd never bothered to learn, standing behind him, holding a baseball glove.

"What are you doing here, kid? We're filming the scene where Sookie tells Bill that getting beat up by the Rats was the best thing that ever happened to her. You're not in that."

Coby shrugged. "Some of the other actors wanted me to see if you'd meet them over by the pond in the woods. Something about a problem with the pump in the pond."

"They should contact maintenance for that, and what are they doing over there, anyway? This isn't a swamp scene."

"I don't know. They just wanted me to get you. They said it was your problem."

"We're not paying you for today, kid. You know that, right?"

The kid that played Coby muttered something about payback under his breath and ran away. Alan stomped off towards the pond area, wondering what the hell they were doing over there and why they hadn't just called maintenance. Sometimes actors were a pain in the ass.

He stood and looked over the pond when the beautiful giant that played Eric came and stood beside him. Alan swore sometimes that he was really a vampire because of his ability to sneak up on him without making a sound. Or maybe it was his time in the Swedish Marines. That could have been it, too.

"What do you want?" the producer huffed.

"I don't think we should shoot this scene, Alan," Eric said quietly. "I think it's a mistake. It needs a rewrite."

"Listen, I'm not paying you for your creative input, asshole. I'm paying you to take your shirt off and drop panties all over the world with your swagger and your accent. That's it. If you want to get creative, work with von Trier again."

Just then, a woman that Alan knew all too well walked out of the darkness, arms crossed. "I think you should listen to him, Alan."

"Tara-one, you get back in my fucking trailer. I don't know who the hell helped you escape, but I'm going to fire their asses so fast they won't even know what hit them."

Good Tara simply cleared her throat. "You thought you could kill off all those mediocre characters and it would clean up the mess you made? That's bullshit."

"It's Billshit, even," Bill Compton remarked, joining Eric and Tara. "Getting beat up wasn't the best thing that ever happened to Sookie. It was a horrible mistake that I'll regret for the rest of my days."

"You three are ridiculous. You have no idea what my master plan is. You're all going to rule the vampire world together, with that blonde chick."

"Which one?" the actors asked all together.

Alan rolled his eyes. "Does it matter?"

Pam stalked out of the wilderness. "Of course it fucking matters. One of us has a fairy vagina which you seem to think is laced with crack cocaine, and the other is me, and I'm not doing anything with him," she said, spitting in Bill's direction. "That crown is a little tight for his head."

"Bill is a magnificent king," Alan said, wrapping an arm around Bill's shoulders. "See, look how regal he is." Alan rubbed his back a little, before moving his hand lower. "Has buttocks like a Roman gladiator, he does."

Bill looked at Alan uncomfortably. "That's all well and good, but I really have made some mistakes, and I'm not keen on the idea of the woman I love being okay with allowing me to treat her so disrespectfully."

"And truly," Eric started, "I'd like my balls back sometime soon."

"Yes," Tara agreed, nodding her head. "He needs some testosterone injections or something. I'm sure the studio can afford them with the money they saved doing those cheap ass special effects in-house."

"Women wanted Eric to be more in touch with his softer side."

Sookie stomped over and stood between Eric and Bill. "What women wanted that? Isn't the whole point of having a Viking to foster pillaging fantasies? It's like creating a sensitive pirate. It doesn't work."

"No one fantasizes about that," Pam deadpanned. "Even Jack Sparrow had balls."

"But he wore guyliner. That gave him an aura of sensitivity."

Bill cuffed Alan on the side of the head. "Enough. We've brought him here for a reason. Let's get on with it, so we can get back to our regularly scheduled fictional lives, where I go to Peru and fuck my way through the Andes, and Sookie and Eric make awkward eyes at each other for the next season without me in the way to cockblock them."

"What about me?" Tara asked, dreamily.

"Well, if you're really dead I'm sure they'll let you work in the costume department. If not, I'm sure you'll be a vampire or a demon or something once the writers get a hold of you." Sookie told her, "I don't know what they have planned for you since you should just be a background character by now."

Terry and Andy Bellefleur jumped out of the woods carrying prop rifles and took the scene in before them. "Is it time yet?" Terry asked, regarding Alan curiously. "Sorry, we had to feed the kids since Arlene isn't having any part of things anymore. She's off on vacation in Baton Rouge, lovin' life again."

Sookie and Tara smiled. "Oh, that's just great. I hope she has a nice time," Sookie said, looking awkwardly at Eric. "I could sure use a vacation."

"Soon, Lover. Soon," he said, affectionately tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, causing her to blush.

"His house in Öland is especially lovely this time of year," Pam said dryly.

Holly ran out of the woods, giant forehead sparkling with sweat and her magic first aid kit in hand. "I drew the salt circle, y'all. Stand back now. You don't want to be in it when the shit goes down."

"Oh!" Tara said excitedly. "I never got to help with the witches in the books. How fun! Sookie, do you know any spells?"

"No. I just read my lines. I think we said something about Alan taking over the world in Latin."

"It's okay, I've been reading the spell books they have in Moon Goddess," Holly said excitedly.

The group stood in the shade near the pond, Alan looking at them in disbelief. How could they be so ungrateful? How could they not see the beauty of his masterpiece? He was making something that people would remember for the ages. He was practically fucking Shakespeare. A modern day Tarantino. He clenched his fists and wished that he had the power to shoot microwave rays out of his hands. They deserved it.

Alan stared at his cast outside the salt circle, as Holly and Sookie chanted and Lafayette joined them, letting it all out in ebonics.

For a while, nothing happened, but the atmosphere was nearly vibrating with excitement from the actors. Now, perhaps, they'd be able to get their fictional lives back on track, and be a part of something that people enjoyed, rather than watched simply hoping for seconds of Eric's ass on screen and snarky lines that they could see on any show on television.

Then Alan's head began pounding and he fell to his knees, pulling at his hair, trying to make the pain stop. As he squinted in the moonlight, all but writhing in pain, he saw ripples in the water as his less popular creations began walking out of the pond. He'd thought of killing off the characters he wasn't crazy about, like Eric and Pam, to give them more screen time, but HBO had stepped in and slapped him on the wrist. Alan thought it was because their wives, and in some cases husbands, appreciated Northman's gratuitous swagger and Pam's flashy wardrobe. Little did he know that they were favorite characters from the books. He hadn't bothered to read past book two. He'd just had a staffer read him the Cliffs Notes while they fed him grapes and blood orange soda.

Debbie Pelt came out of the swamp first, water matting down her hair and making her look like a very dead drowned rat. She hissed at him, hating Ball for making her a V addict and a dumber whore than she'd been in Harris's books.

Lucky for Alan, he'd landed on the right side of the salt line when he dropped to his knees, and no matter how much she clawed, she was unable to reach him. Her insults stung though, as she went on and on about how could he possibly have had her even feign an interest in Marcus when she'd had Alcide's smooth, sculpted body all to herself.

Crystal, his beloved Tara Two, and Marnie were next out of the water. They looked equally as pissed as Debbie, but stared at him with vacant eyes and oddly bloated, rotting flesh.

"How can this be?" Alan whispered, looking to Holly for answers.

"Piss off the wrong people and anything's possible, boss," she said with a knowing grin.

Eric grinned. "Napoleon Complexes never work out in the end. You seem to be such a cinema buff, even you should know this."

Sookie snorted. "What goes around, comes around."

Bill just laughed and kind Tara shook her head. "You let your power go to your head. Now it's time for your come to Jesus."

"What? Jesus is here?" Lafayette asked, looking around hopefully.

"No, baby," Sookie said quietly, rubbing his back. "We didn't kill him off. He's not really dead. He's just going to need to look for a new job."

The cast was still murmuring reassurances to Lafayette when Marcus and Tommy came out of the water. Sadly, they looked much worse for the wear than the ladies, but then they'd looked worse when they went in the water.

Marcus sneered at Alan. "You promised me my dream job."

"I made you an alpha Were! What didn't you like about it?"

"You made me into a redneck biker!"

The rest of the cast nodded, making comments about Ball's tendency to make shifters poor, uneducated stereotypes. Alan hadn't seen it that way. He'd been trying to really explore southerners, and the realities of their existences.

This was all very Dickensian, Alan thought, and wondered if he should consider doing a reboot of A Tale of Two Cities next. He could absolutely improve on what Charles Dickens had been trying to do.

As if they read his mind regarding the insanely self-indulgent ideas rolling around in his head, the zombified minor characters began advancing towards him and the salt circle. Eric put an arm around Sookie and Bill stood behind Tara. Andy and Terry watched with excitement, rifles still slung over their shoulders. Pam looked bored and Lafayette was still sniffling over Jesus. Alan couldn't believe that they weren't afraid of the zombies. He didn't realize that they had nothing to fear.

The spell had nothing to do with them.

"Andy, I don't think you should watch this," Terry said quietly. "You're sensitive, and things like this can really affect a person."

Andy furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped himself. Terry was right. He'd probably never sleep if he watched what was about to happen.

"I could glamour you," Pam said, looking into his eyes.

"No you can't," Terry snorted.

She shrugged. "I was just being polite. Jason would have fallen for it."

Bill frowned at the scene before him. "As king, I think we should step this up."

"Shut up," Pam said. "But he's right. Let's get this show on the road."

Eric and Bill looked at one another and with a synchronicity that rivalled the most talented synchronized swimmers, they stepped forward, drawing two lines in the sand, breaking the salt circle.

In an instant, Tommy Merlotte's hands darted forward and grabbed for his maker. Alan struggled with all his might and tried to talk his characters into letting him live.

"Alan," Tommy groaned in zombie speak, "I'd like to help you out, but I really, really liked bein' a shifter, and Maxine was real good to me. I don't even know what natural fuckin' gas is."

And with that, Tommy leaned toward Alan's head and ripped his ear off. Alan screamed in pain, trying to get out of his grip, to no avail.

"I'll give you anything. I'll write you back in. Whatever you want."

"Too late," Zombie Debbie moaned. "All we want is brains."

"Brains," the zombies all said together.

Andy hid his face but heard a whoosh of air, a flopping sound and sickening crunch. Then suddenly Alan's feet were stretched out in front of him where they hadn't been before. He couldn't start singing the alphabet song fast enough before he heard zombie Tommy say with his mouthfull, "Mmmmm. Brains."

Holly smiled, and patted Andy's back. "It's okay baby. We'll get you home soon, away from all this."

"I told you not to watch," Terry grumbled at his cousin.

"I tried!" Andy whined back, fighting the nausea that was overtaking him.

"What a bitch," Eric grumbled, looking at Alan's dismembered corpse. "All he had to do was listen to the message boards once and a while instead of his huge ego."

"That coming from someone with an ego the size of your..." Sookie said, chuckling, still avoiding eye contact with the handsome Viking that she'd had every which way when he hadn't known who he was. She relaxed, knowing now, really and truly for the first time in four seasons, that they'd be all right. It would take them some time, but at least they had a fighting chance.

"You know that we're married, right?" Bill said to Sookie. "I mean, in real life."

She nodded and rolled her eyes. "Stay in character, honey."

"But I don't really want to go to Peru."

"You'll have a lot of sex there," Pam reminded him. "And there's llamas. You love llamas."

"Oh yeah. I guess I should go pack then," he nodded. "I'll be back for you, Sookie."

"I'm sure you will," she murmured, glancing back over at Eric.

The zombies had eaten Alan's skull clean of brains and Tommy had gone off to scavenge some raccoons that were clogging their arteries in the Craft Services garbage dumpsters. The other zombies limped off behind him with a wave to the surviving cast.

"What will happen to them?" Tara asked innocently.

"Oh, sweetie," Holly said, patting her arm. "They'll come back here later and drown themselves in the swamp for good and it'll all be over. I just wouldn't go swimin' in there or drink any tap water around here for, well, ever."

All of a sudden, the attention of the surviving characters was drawn back to the swamp, as the ghost of Mavis and her doll stood there, watching everything, a content smile on her face.

"I can finally move on from this nightmare. Thank you, all," she said peacefully, as she floated towards the heavens.

"Who the fuck was that?" Pam asked.

"Beats the hell out of me," Sookie said, her attention turned to an old, but still familiar friend. "Calvin? Is that you?"

The Hot Shot patriarch walked up to her and smiled. "It's me, darlin'. Thank you, all of you for help. It was a dark, cold place, the empty shell of Merlotte's exterior set. I've never been so glad to be out in the fresh air."

"Things can finally get back to normal," Eric said brightly, wrapping his arms around Sookie and Pam's shoulders. "You two can be friends again. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Pam smiled smugly. "It would be nice to have my telepathic friend back, the way our maker intended."

Sookie nodded. "I think she'd like that."

"Should we all go have a slumber party at Bill's house while he packs?" Tara asked, bouncing.

The cast looked at her like she was a little crazy.

"No," Pam replied, answering for the group. "Our work is done here. We need to get the fuck out of here before some of Bill's Babes come looking for Alan."

"Oh, I could wait for them," Bill said hopefully.

"No," Pam said again. "Did you just hear me? We can't be found near this...carcass."

"Oh, right. And I need to pack."

"Yes. You need to pack." Pam rolled her eyes at him and began to head towards her trailer. She looked over her shoulder. "The rest of you - scatter. I'll see you in a few months when we start to film Season 5. Let's hope we get some decent writers."

"Maybe I could do that," Tara said. "I'd do right by ya'll, and I've read the books."

Holly slapped her on the shoulder. "You're hired kid. Maybe give me some bangs while you're at it."

Tara nodded, thinking up all the great wardrobe changes she'd make and the ways she could salvage the show. "Right. I'll see ya'll in a few months."

They walked off in different directions, some in pairs and some alone, leaving the remains of their producer behind them to serve as a reminder not to fuck with Bon Temps. A wolf howled in the distance but no one seemed to notice. They walked off into the moonlight, for the first time in years, hopeful for the coming season.

-xxxxx-xxxxx-

Peace, love and vampires. See you in Season 5.

T and Sea


End file.
